The Masquerade Series X2 chapter 1 Untouched
by jennybel75
Summary: This is a fic authored by the lovely Catlover2x and myself. It's a series of Role Play Fantasies between the boys. Each will have 2 parts, 1 for Greg and 1 for Nick, their fantasy being fulfilled by the other. There will be as many parts as we have ideas
1. Untouched

**Partie une: Greg**

As they sat together on the couch Nick snaked an arm behind Greg's shoulders, allowing himself to barely brush the back of Greg's neck.

A delicate shudder proclaimed Greg's awareness, but he did not turn his head to look at Nick. Nick permitted himself a discreet smile of satisfaction at the success of his manoeuvre. Cautiously, he let his fingers brush lightly over Greg's shoulder.

Greg closed his eyes with a deep sigh and let his head fall back against Nick's arm. His mouth had opened slightly to allow the sound to escape and to Nick it sounded like contentment, desire and fear all rolled into one.

He leaned over and very softly brushed his lips across Greg's. The slightest turn of Greg's head into the kiss invited Nick to deepen it. He ran his tongue over Greg's lower lip, just licking, before gently nudging inside, wanting to see if Greg tasted like he'd always imagined; sweet with hints of coffee and mint.

Nick raised his other hand to cup Greg's chin tenderly, angling his head so he could delve even deeper, but all the while keeping the pace slow, deliberate, gentle.

With a groan he released his hold on Greg's mouth and leaned his forehead against Greg's, his hand slipping lower to gently caress Greg's neck, noting the heat radiating from the smooth skin.

"Have you ever been with a guy before?"

Greg shook his head slightly without opening his eyes.

"Are you sure you want this?"

A nod this time.

"Look at me, Greg. I want to be sure you want what I want, or this goes no further."

Greg opened his eyes and Nick's heart skipped a beat to see the depth of desire blazing in them. The normally humorous and ironic expression had given way to one almost pitifully vulnerable and open, but with an underlying need that told Nick everything he was desperate to know.

"A first time should be special," Nick whispered tenderly, "Wait right here, I'll be back in a sec."

Greg nodded, "I'm not going anywhere."

Nick gave him another soft kiss and vanished down the hall toward his bedroom.

Greg shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to control his trembling. His normally brash, flirtatious façade had fallen away as a desire he'd had for God knows how long was finally going to be fulfilled. Apart from hasty hand jobs and a couple of blowjobs his experience with men was limited. Theoretically he knew what came next and he was scared. Scared but, oh, how he wanted Nick.

Returning to the living room, Nick held out his hand in invitation to Greg. Greg put his hand in Nick's and was pulled gently to his feet, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him. Nick circled Greg in his arms and kissed him again before saying, "If you want to stop, tell me, any time. I can take this as slowly as you need to."

"I don't want to stop," Greg smiled shyly.

Turning, Nick led the way, walking beside Greg, hand in hand, neither pushing him nor dragging him behind. They paused in the doorway and Greg saw that Nick had lit some candles, their warm glow suffusing the room with an almost ethereal light.

He turned to Nick with a little smile and hint of tears. "Thank you," was all he said.

"I want this to be special for you," Nick said, holding Greg close, "Because you're special to me and I want you to feel comfortable and safe."

They walked the short distance to the side of the bed and Nick kissed Greg again, hugging him gently. Greg put his hands flat on Nick's chest, not pushing him away, just holding him there.

"Are you sure?" Nick asked.

"Sure," Greg affirmed, with a small nod.

Nick slid his hands under Greg's t-shirt; feeling for the first time what was hidden from view, the soft, pliant velvet of Greg's back, abruptly distorted by the rough, pebbled texture as he ranged his hands higher to where the scars began.

"Your scars…" he began.

Greg put a finger on Nick's lips, "…are just scars. They've healed."

"Not completely," Nick responded, a slight hint of anguish colouring his voice.

"It'll be okay," Greg soothed him.

Nick pulled the t-shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. He placed his hands on Greg's shoulders, thumbs tracing along the collarbones and meeting in the small hollow at the base of his throat.

Greg watched as Nick's eyes roamed over his shoulders and chest with wonder, travelling down the flat stomach to his navel where a faint line of downy hair led under his jeans.

"Now you," Greg said, and pushed Nick's t-shirt up in turn. He'd seen Nick without a shirt before of course, but it was entirely different up this close. Because, now, he was free to touch, to explore each swell and dip of toned muscles, and run his hands over Nick's arms revelling in the feel of the strength beneath the smoothness of the skin.

Nick smiled at Greg's absorption and recalled his attention with a quick kiss. "Still okay?"

Greg smiled. "More than okay. I'll tell you if I'm not."

"Alright."

Without him being precisely aware of it, Nick's hands had wandered to the waistband of Greg's jeans and he worked open the fly, checking to see if Greg was wearing boxers or had gone commando. Boxers, but damn, they were silk.

Greg gasped as Nick ran his hands inside his jeans, cupping the globes of his ass through the soft silk, pulling him forward till their hips met. Greg felt the hardness of Nick's cock sliding against his own and loved the way they felt together. He clung to Nick's shoulders and pushed his hips into Nick's.

Nick bent his head to bite gently at the crook of Greg's neck, licking over it lightly to taste the slightly salty sweet flavor of his skin. He felt Greg stiffen against him with a slight hiss of breath and tensed as he waited, wondering if he'd gone too far.

But then Greg's hands were on his ass, pulling him closer as their hips flexed together.

Nick pushed Greg's jeans down and explored the silk, feeling Greg's heat radiating through the smooth, slightly sticky texture of the material. Gently backing away, he helped Greg step out of his jeans and stripped off his socks, noticing with a secret smile the delicate shiver as he touched each foot.

Finally Greg was naked but for his grey silk boxers, a damp patch on the bulge in front, announcing he was as aroused as Nick had hoped.

Nick quickly stripped himself the rest of the way, kicking his clothing aside. Greg's eyes dropped to Nick's cock, jutting from his body, and he licked his lips nervously.

"I don't want to rush you," Nick said, noticing the nervous tremor, "There are other things we can do."

"I want this," Greg murmured as he took Nick's erection in his hand, running his thumb over the sensitive head.

"Then you'll need to stop doing that," Nick gasped and held Greg's hand still with his own, "Or this will be over before it begins."

He smiled indulgently at Greg's dazzlingly self-congratulatory grin. The younger man did not seem to realize how distracting he could be.

He slowly backed Greg towards the bed, pushing him down on it. Greg sat down and smiled up at Nick, holding his arms open in an unmistakeable invitation. Nick joined him and tried to move over him carefully, but Greg pulled him down forcefully, gasping at the first touch of skin on skin. He moaned and shivered under Nick, the contact more electric than anything he'd ever experienced before.

Nick buried his face in Greg's shoulder and gripped his ass, moulding and squeezing it as he ground down into him, sliding his erection against the silk covered one beneath him. He took Greg's mouth in a searing kiss and felt him respond eagerly, their tongues swirling in heat and passion, sliding over each other breathlessly.

Nick broke away and dipped his head to suck a nipple as he slid the silk boxers off. Greg whimpered and arched up under Nick's mouth, holding his head against his chest searching for more.

"I want you so bad," Greg groaned, "Need to feel you inside me…"

Nick found the lube and coated his fingers, reaching lower to gently stroke Greg's opening. Greg's eyes flew open. "Fuck, that feels good," he moaned as his hips moved faster and he spread his legs wider. "More!"

Nick nudged at the opening, taking Greg's mouth again as his finger breached the tight opening for the first time. Greg gasped and wrenched his mouth from Nick's as he arched away from the older man's hand.

"I'll be gentle, but it might hurt a bit at first," Nick whispered tenderly. "It'll be ok, just try to relax."

Greg nodded and bit his lip as Nick's finger slid in a little further. He tensed, clutching the sheets, and his breath quickened as he fought to relax. Finally he was able to relax himself enough and he nodded to Nick who slid his finger in further, waiting for Greg to adjust. "Feels full," Greg whimpered.

"It'll get better," Nick assured him and started to move his finger slowly, gently stroking the inner walls, curling his finger looking for the magic spot. He grinned when he found it because Greg arched up off the bed and yelled, "Holy fuck! What was that?"

Nick moved his finger a little faster, brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each stroke. Greg moaned and thrashed on the bed. "More… please!"

Nick pulled out and added another finger, which Greg accepted willingly, spreading his legs wider, opening himself to the sensation. Nick gently scissored the tight ring of muscle while continuing to stimulate Greg's prostate with each stroke. He carefully added a third finger, stretching and moving until Greg could take it in easily.

"Are you ready for me?" He asked, watching Greg's face. He gasped as Greg opened his eyes, and he saw that they were filled with such a desire and love for him that it threatened to overwhelm his tenuous control.

"Please…" Greg managed.

Nick withdrew his fingers and put the condom on with shaking hands, lubing himself generously. He suggested, "The first time it will be easier for you on your stomach," he suggested gently.

Greg shook his head, "I want to see you."

Nick nodded and pressed Greg's knees up toward his chest and, lining himself up, he slowly entered him. Greg gasped with the first feeling of penetration, unable to believe that he could feel so full, so complete for the first time. Nick gently pushed in all the way and paused to allow Greg to adjust to the new feeling. He pulled Greg's legs around his waist and immediately Greg clamped his heels into Nick's back, pulling him in deeper.

Greg melted under Nick, lost in a world of new sensation. Nick was touching him in much more than just a physical way and he felt a depth of love and connection that he'd never known before. He wanted to remember this feeling always.

Finally Nick started a gentle rocking motion and Greg cried out with pleasure. Nick looked into his face and saw myriad of emotions in his unguarded expression, desire, passion, hunger, but, surpassing all those, love.

Nick almost sobbed with relief as he began to thrust harder into Greg's willing body, feeling him arch up to meet each stroke. He had wanted this for so long and to know that Greg desired him just as much was nearly overpowering. He moved a hand to grab Greg's cock stroking roughly in time with his thrusts. "Nicky… I'm gonna… so close… I'm gonna come…" Greg gasped brokenly.

Greg was babbling with ecstasy. Nick could make out a word here and there: harder, more and please; there were lots of pleases. He watched Greg's face, practically glowing as it contorted with his orgasm and he moaned, "Love you, Nicky."

The expression and the words were enough to push Nick to the brink. Raising himself on both arms, unable to hold back any longer, he pounded into Greg, burying himself deeply as he came with a loud groan.

He collapsed over Greg, sweaty, limp, exhausted. He felt Greg's hands slowly caressing his back, and he whispered, "Love you too, Greg. Always have."

Finally he pulled out, taking care of the condom and getting a washcloth to clean them both. He lay spooned behind Greg and pulled him into his arms, enjoying the closeness of the other man. He heard a sigh and felt, rather than saw, the first tear slide down Greg's cheek.

"Do you wish it really had been like this your first time?"

Greg exhaled. "Yeah. Definitely."

"What happened?" Nick asked diffidently, "You've never told me exactly."

After a long pause, Greg said quietly, "I'll tell you sometime. I don't want to think about it right now."

Nick tightened his arms around Greg and kissed his shoulder silently.

"Do you wish your first time had been with me?" Nick whispered, a little uncertainly.

"Oh yeah," Greg sighed again. He rolled toward Nick and twined his arms around him reassuringly.

"So if you could go back–?"

"I don't know Nick. In a way I'm sort of glad I knew what I was doing when I met you, no fumbling around, yeah?" Greg smiled tremulously, "But, yes, if I could go back, I'd definitely want it to be with you. This was just perfect."

"I'm glad," Nick said as he placed a gentle kiss on Greg's forehead. He smiled contentedly and held Greg tightly in his arms until they both fell asleep.

**Partie Deux: Nick**

Nick closed his locker door and turned but Greg had braced a hand on either side of his head, trapping him against the cold metal.

"Where do you think you're going, beautiful?"

Greg was so close that Nick could feel his breath hot on his ear as he spoke.

"I don't _think _anything, I _know _I'm going to work," Nick said, ducking under Greg's arm and making for the door. Greg scooted ahead of him and draped himself in the doorway with one arm braced on the opposite side of the jamb.

"Not so fast, sexy, am I making you nervous?

Nick was indeed starting to get a little nervous. Not that he couldn't take Greg, he was obviously stronger and in better shape. But what was Greg up to? And why was it making him feel… hunted?

"Look, Greg, Grissom's waiting for me, I gotta…"

His words died on his tongue as he noticed Greg licking his lower lip slowly with the tip of his pink tongue; a tongue that looked rather long…and agile.

Nick ducked under Greg's arm again and hot-footed it down the hall, hearing Greg's pleased chuckle float after him.

"Catch you later, stud."

Nick burst into Grissom's office, never so relieved to be there as he was now. It almost felt like a sanctuary. He and Warrick received their assignment and headed out, Nick just grateful to be out of the building and out of Greg's reach, if only for a short time. He wasn't sure what the hell the lab tech was up to and he really did not want to find out. Did he? No! He wasn't going there.

Upon their return, he and Warrick turned into the rest room without missing a beat, still discussing their case. As soon as he caught sight of Greg at the sink Nick stopped short, not wanting to have to deal with any smart-ass comments or awkward suggestions that the lab tech might come up with in front of the other man. 'Rick pushed him inside irritably, exclaiming, "Move it, Nick. What's the hang-up?"

Nick ducked into a stall. No way was he using a urinal with Greg standing right there ogling him.

He heard Warrick chatting idly with Greg and then leave, saying, "Check it out, Nick. I'll be in the garage."

He cowered in the stall, hoping to God that Greg had left with Warrick. Hearing no sound, he cautiously pushed open the door and ventured out.

Immediately he found himself forced back against the wall, being kissed ruthlessly as Greg crushed the breath out of him.

"I never knew you could kiss like that," he gasped, looking at Greg, a mix of respect and horror evident in his confused eyes.

"There's a whole lot of things you don't know about me, Nicky-boy," Greg purred seductively, licking a trail from his jaw to his ear. "Is there anything you'd like to find out?"

"What the hell are you playing at Greg? I'm not interested and you can't gay me up." Nick pushed Greg off him and backed toward the hallway.

"You sure you don't want to be 'gayed up', cowboy? You never know, you just might like it." Greg laughed.

Without another word, Nick turned and made his escape, fleeing down the hall in the opposite direction to the DNA lab.

At his lunch break, he found an unsigned post-it note inside his bag saying, "I just want a taste." Unconsciously he licked his lips. He shuddered and shoved the note deep into his pocket, eating quickly to escape the break room and his own unsettling thoughts.

Opening his locker at the end of the day, he found that his other shirt was missing and there was another post-it in its place with the message, "Take it off, baby." Why wasn't he surprised that Greg was able to break into his locker?

What he really needed was to go home, relax with a beer and regain his equanimity. He'd been ill at ease all day after that unexpected and disturbingly hot kiss, and he needed some time to figure out why. After all, Greg was a guy and there was no way he was attracted to guys, even a guy as gorgeous as Greg. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts he didn't want to deal with, he cautiously pushed open the door to the parking lot, half expecting to find Greg plastered against his truck, but he reached its safety unmolested and headed home.

He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, feeling safe for the first time all day. Dropping his backpack, he got a beer and headed down the hall, stripping his shirt over his head, thinking longingly of a nice hot shower. Or maybe a cold one. The kiss that Greg had laid on him had affected him in a way he hadn't expected and he was more than a little worried about it. He'd never really been attracted to another guy before, but there was just something about Greg that was so–

He froze as he flipped the light on in the bedroom. There on the bed was a pair of handcuffs, a leather thong, a bright blue dildo and a pink feather boa. A huge dildo. A very pink boa. What the fuck?

Stunned, Nick stood there goggling at the display, giving Greg the opportunity to divest him of the beer and grab the shirt from him. He spun Nick around and pushed him face first against the wall, pinning both hands flat, and whispered into his ear, breath hot and moist, "I'm here to gay you up, lover."

"What are you…? Are you gonna…? You're not…?" Nick stuttered.

"Yes, I am gonna and I will," Greg chuckled.

Nick forgot everything as Greg slid his weight against him, licking a hot stripe up the side of his neck to the sensitive spot just under his ear where he latched on and sucked. Nick gasped at the sensations coursing through his body. He'd never thought he could feel so turned on by anyone, let alone another man.

"Keep those hands right there, cowboy," Greg whispered, his seductive voice tinged with just a hint of threat. He ran his hands up Nick's arms, fondling the hard muscles under the flawless skin. He massaged Nick's shoulders lightly, releasing some of the tension knotted there, then dropped his hands and circled Nick's waist.

Nick gasped as he felt Greg's hands come up to caress his chest, pinching and tweaking at his nipples, then teasing their way down to the waistband of his jeans, opening the zipper and undoing the button. Those talented hands slid inside his boxers, barely touching the wiry curls leading downward as Greg continued to suck on his neck, teeth scraping gently and wetly against his skin.

Greg slowly pushed the jeans and boxers down to Nick's ankles and ordered, "Spread your legs."

Nick didn't even think twice, he just spread his legs as far as he could, hindered by the jeans. He gripped the wall desperately, all thought of escape far away as his mind screamed, "Touch me!"

"I am touching you," Greg murmured, amused, as his hands slid over Nick's ass, cupping and kneading each cheek.

'Fuck, I can't believe I said that out loud,' Nick thought.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Greg crooned into Nick's skin.

"Me too," Nick gasped. "Fuck, no… didn't… out loud."

He felt Greg's laugh vibrate through his skin and whimpered, pushing his ass back at Greg, hoping for more contact.

"Is this what you want?" Greg slid his hands between them, fondling Nick's balls and just teasing the base of his cock with the other.

"Please…" Nick groaned, unable to get out any other words, angling his straining cock to get Greg's hand to close over it.

"Don't move," Greg admonished him.

He stood back from Nick, admiring the view.

Nick shook, embarrassed at how needy he felt and just how much he wanted Greg's hand or mouth on his cock, anything, any contact at all. He jerked as he felt something soft drift gently against his back and down between his legs. Afraid to move even an inch, he didn't dare look down, but he knew, he just knew, that Greg was sliding that damn feather boa between his legs, brushing his balls and cock. And it felt good. Another deep groan wrenched from his throat and, even though it felt amazing, he couldn't help but think of the other items he'd seen with dread.

Greg turned Nick's head and kissed him, his tongue fucking Nick's mouth, scorching and wet, sliding over Nick's, the firm pressure of lips almost bruising, with hot breath shared between them. Nick was trembling with need and he was so fucking hard.

Greg wound the boa around Nick's neck and gripped his hips, holding him in place as he licked down the Texan's spine, tongue swirling, tormenting, stopping to leave open-mouthed kisses here and there. Nick held his breath as Greg left a particularly luscious kiss on his tailbone, unable to believe that he was really going to do this, but knowing that there was no way he'd ever want to go back.

He felt Greg's hands part his cheeks and then that first hot swipe of tongue across his opening. He let out a shuddering moan and felt the vibration of Greg's chuckle. He locked his knees as he felt the first tentative thrust and, God, Greg's tongue was inside, stretching him and it was so hot and so wet, Nick couldn't believe he hadn't just come all over the wall.

He pushed his ass back at Greg, wishing he could get his legs farther apart. "Greg… fuck me…please… now…"

Greg laughed again and stood, running his hands up Nick's body and hugging him from behind before spinning him around and taking his mouth again in a searing kiss, holding him in place by the boa. "Are you sure you want to go that _gay_, Nicky?"

Nick nodded eagerly, coherent communication having become impossible. Greg started backing toward the bed, pulling Nick by the boa draped around his neck. When he reached the bed, he swept the other items to the floor and pushed Nick down onto it, yanking off his shoes and socks, freeing him from the pants around his ankles.

Greg struggled out of his own clothing at top speed, somehow still managing to look graceful. Nick moaned again with impatience and need. Finally, finally, Greg was on top of him, kissing him, pushing his knees toward his chest, stroking him with lubed fingers, urging him to open. Nick pushed back at the fingers, gasping, "Now… I'm ready… fuck me…"

Greg slipped on the condom, slicking himself with shiny fingers and gently eased into his lover; then Nick wrapped his legs around Greg's waist, and pulled him in hard, impaling himself on Greg's cock. He flexed his muscles around Greg, urging him to move.

Greg groaned and started thrusting slowly, but his self control was quickly shattered by Nick's moans and he was pounding into the older man hitting his prostate with each thrust. Nick moaned shamelessly, thrusting his hips up to meet Greg. Greg pulled one of Nick's legs up over his shoulder, fucking him hard, grinding him into the bed. He reached for Nick's cock with one hand, stroking him in time to his thrusts.

Nick grabbed for Greg's hips with his shaking fingers. He was close, so close and feeling Greg sliding inside him, the sensation was almost too much to take, the intensity building to a crescendo. He opened his eyes to see the concentration on Greg's tense face as his balls collided with Nick's ass with a slap at every thrust. It was too much and Nick squeezed his eyes shut, coming with a loud cry, spilling hot liquid over Greg's hand and his own stomach.

At that, Greg lowered himself so he was sliding in the cum spilled across Nick's stomach and braced himself, his breathing erratic and his hips banging into Nick as he came hard. He collapsed over Nick, panting and slick with sweat and cum.

Nick smirked as he ran his hands soothingly over Greg's back. Finally Greg came to and turned his head to smile weakly at Nick. Nick kissed him gently, and Greg chuckled as his fingers plucked at the feather boa.

"This is surprisingly becoming, Nicky. Sure I can't persuade you to wear it to work?"

Nick laughed too, and let his legs drop to the mattress, holding Greg in place between them.

"What's with all the toys? You had me going there for a minute."

It was Greg's turn to smirk. "Well, you inspired me with that comment about gaying you up. So I thought I'd call your bluff, cowboy."

Nick pouted. "So you're not really going to handcuff me to the bed and use the dildo?"

"Maybe next time, Nicky, maybe next time," Greg smiled, a wicked look in his eyes.


	2. RentBoys

Part A: Nick 

When Nick arrived outside the hotel room door he took a deep breath, unsure as to what awaited him on the other side. Or, more to the point, who? He fingered the key card, flicking it with his thumbnail and chewing his lower lip, wondering whether he should just turn around and go home, or actually go through with this.

The person who'd interviewed him had taken a lot of time, but he wondered how his preferences could have been deduced from the somewhat random seeming questions he'd been asked.

Taking a deep breath he slid the card into the lock. After it scanned, he turned the handle and hesitantly pushed the door open, allowing it to close by itself behind him.

He walked slowly into the room only to be faced with a large mirror on the far wall. And, God, reflected in that mirror was the person he'd come to meet.

He forgot to breathe. Perfect. Just perfect.

Short leather miniskirt slung low on slim hips, black thigh high stockings topped with lace that barely met the hem of the skirt. High-heeled boots probably too painful to walk in. A purple silk corset that revealed just a hint of nipple. Black silk fingerless gloves. And the make-up! Dark eyes surrounded by kohl, perfect pale complexion heightened with blush on high cheekbones, dark plum lipstick on the cupid's bow mouth. And spiked hair, he was partial to spiked hair, tipped with glitter.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thank you, Nick"

"Call me sir."

"Yes, sir." Greg dropped his head submissively, allowing himself to look up at Nick under his lashes.

Nick crossed the room quickly, grabbed him under the chin and kissed him hard, smearing the carefully applied lipstick. He looked at his handiwork with satisfaction and backed Greg up to the bed, pushing him down onto it. He noticed a set of handcuffs hanging over the headboard and smiled, obviously the questioner had been able to work out exactly what he was after, even if he hadn't been able to verbalize it.

"Lie down, and call me sir."

"Yes, sir." Greg's lashes fluttered as he positioned himself on the bed, resting his head on the pillow.

"Hands up."

Obediently Greg raised his hands so Nick could lock the cuffs into place on each wrist. Nick then gently pulled on Greg's arms to make sure they were properly restrained to the headboard.

Nick's breathing quickened as he looked down at his fantasy. Everything he'd ever wanted but would never have been able to put into coherent thought.

He ran a finger over Greg's smudged lipstick, delighting in the slight flush which appeared at this simple contact. Trailing his finger down Greg's chest, Nick smeared the lipstick from his finger over the already taut nipples peeking over the top of the corset, painting each flat disc darker against the creamy skin as Greg writhed silently, his breath hitching.

Nick lifted Greg's buttocks and placed a pillow under his hips. He bent Greg's knees, placing his feet in their ridiculous heels flat on the bed, exposing a white lace thong. He spread Greg's legs so they fell back against the bed. He touched the lace gently, feeling the bulge hardening further under his hand. Greg gasped and flexed his hips to thrust up into Nick's hand.

Nick stood looking down at him, stroking his groin softly. He pushed the skirt up a fraction, enjoying the contrast of the exposed pale skin with the black stockings and skirt. Greg really did have beautiful legs, long, slim and muscular.

Running his fingertips over the soft fabric of the corset, Nick reveled in the contrast between the smoothness of the silk and the firmness of the boning. His fingers found the edge of the corset and circled teasingly around each painted nipple. He bit down on one small nub, hardening it to a peak with his tongue and then did the same with the other. Greg moaned and arched up into the sting. Nick soothed the nipples with his fingers, stroking over them softly.

He cupped his hand over the lace covering Greg's straining cock. Greg bucked up to gain more friction and Nick held his hip down with one hand, immobilizing him. He looked at Greg's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open to suck in much needed air, lipstick smeared, looking incredibly debauched and provocative, like a fallen angel.

Nick grabbed the tiny string holding the thong together and ripped it, tossing the scrap of fabric across the room. Greg inhaled sharply, his eyes open to watch Nick's next move.

Grabbing a tube of lube from the nightstand, Nick unzipped his jeans and liberally anointed his erection. Greg was unable to look away, his gaze flicking from Nick's face to his hands. He licked his lips in anticipation.

Nick knelt between Greg's legs, running his hands down the silky inner thighs and rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive line between thigh and groin. Soft incoherent cries echoed as Greg thrust up, trying to get those hands to touch his throbbing cock.

Finally Nick lifted Greg's ass in both hands and started pressing the head of his cock excruciatingly slowly against the hidden entrance. He pressed harder until the tight ring of muscle relaxed enough to admit him. Greg thrust frantically but with his hands handcuffed to the headboard he had no leverage to push himself any closer and had to endure Nick's achingly slow invasion.

Nick slid in and out slowly as Greg moaned and thrashed under him. Finally Nick planted his hands on either side of Greg's waist and, bracing his toes against the footboard, slammed into Greg as hard as he could. A strangled cry broke from Greg's lips. He was completely at Nick's mercy; he had no way to thrust up to meet him. The feeling was both blissful and torturous. Nick grabbed Greg's legs and put them over his shoulders, nearly bending him in half.

With each powerful thrust, he barely brushed Greg's prostate, teasing the bundle of nerves with tantalizing strokes designed to sensitize but never quite make contact.

"Please…" Greg moaned.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir."

"Very good," Nick approved and rewarded him by changing the angle so he hit Greg's prostate on every stroke. Picking up speed, he slammed his balls against Greg's ass with a resounding slap at every thrust. His orgasm exploded from him suddenly without warning as he pounded into Greg as hard as he could and judging from the cries coming from Greg's throat, he was enjoying this as much as Nick.

After Nick recovered from the intensity of his orgasm, he looked down into the pleading eyes of his lover. Greg's cock was still rock hard and untouched.

Nick withdrew from Greg's body and bent over to take his cock into his mouth. He sucked, swirling his tongue around the head and Greg came almost immediately with a scream that Nick muffled with one hand.

He swallowed and laid his head on Greg's stomach, feeling it rise and fall as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Nick, you want to get these off me? My arms are fucking killing me," Greg complained in his regular voice.

"Oh, God, sorry G, don't know what I was thinking. Where's the key?"

Greg nodded his head toward the nightstand. "Top drawer."

Nick released Greg's hands and kissed each abused wrist in turn. Greg turned towards Nick and snuggled in, pillowing his head on Nick's shoulder. He slipped one stocking clad leg between Nick's and Nick felt his cock twitch at the unaccustomed silky feeling.

"Fuck, that was amazing," Greg said with an indulgent smile.

"How did you ever figure this out from all those questions you asked?" Nick wondered.

"We have our ways," Greg replied in a self-satisfied voice.

"That was… amazing," Nick repeated.

"Next time it's your turn," said Greg, a slight smile playing across his features.

"You want me to wear a skirt?" Nick asked in dread. Although, considering that Greg had just fulfilled a fantasy he hadn't even known he'd had, some payback in kind was due, so, dammit, he would wear a skirt if that's what Greg wanted.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," Greg said, reaching up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

Part B: Greg 

As Greg walked into the bar, he looked around taking in the western décor and the numerous cowboy hats. His gaze roamed over the crowd, searching but never resting. Until he saw the cowboy. Black hair, golden, sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders under a faded plaid shirt, worn jeans, cowboy boots and, holy fuck, chaps. He was a wet dream come true.

In true western fashion, the cowboy was bellied up to the bar, with a beer in front of him. Greg took a stool several feet away and ordered a draft. The cowboy looked over lazily, smiled and Greg almost swooned. That smile, white teeth flashing in the darkly tanned face, weathered crinkles at the corners of brown eyes, square jaw, sturdy muscular neck. And the arms! Greg definitely had a thing for good arms.

The cowboy's forearms were hard, with defined tendons and his biceps bulged against his shirtsleeves whenever he moved. Like now as he picked up his beer, tilted the glass and _swallowed_! Oh. My. Fucking. God. Greg watched the play of those muscles under the smooth skin of the cowboy's throat as he drained the last of his beer.

Greg nodded to the bartender and said, "I'll get the next one."

The cowboy looked up, startled, and smiled an almost shy smile. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

The bartender left a new beer in front of the cowboy and turned away, hiding a smile.

"You're not from around here."

"No," Greg said. "Just passing through."

"Why'd you stop in a small town like this?" The cowboy slid down with his beer and took the stool next to Greg's.

"I've always wanted to ba– see a real cowboy," Greg answered.

"Well, you're seeing one," the cowboy grinned.

"And ride a horse," Greg continued.

"You've never ridden?" The cowboy was surprised.

"Yeah, well, you know, city boy and all. They don't just ride horses down the middle of the street there."

The cowboy nodded wisely. "Been to the city. So, you wanna take a ride?"

"Definitely! Do you have horses?"

"Sure do," the cowboy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "If you want, we can go take a ride."

"What, now?"

"No time like the present." The cowboy grinned laconically and pulled keys out of his pocket. "My truck's outside. I'll drive."

"Let's go," Greg responded.

"Name's Nick," the cowboy offered as he drove.

"Greg, pleased to meet you."

Nick looked Greg over with a knowing smile. "So you've always wanted to ride… a horse, right."

After a short pause, Greg said, "Yes."

"Any experience riding?"

"Not horses."

Nick sniggered as he got out of the truck. "I've got a real gentle horse for you. I'll just saddle them up. Wait here."

Greg hopped up on the top rail of the corral and looked up at the starlit sky, wondering what the hell he was doing here. In short order, Nick emerged from the barn leading two saddled horses.

He told Greg how to mount and held the horse's head because Greg objected to the horse turning to look at him while he learned. Once up in the saddle, Nick could see that Greg's balance was easy and commented on it.

"Surfing," Greg explained.

"Okay, well we'll still take it slow. If the horse took off you'd be on your ass for sure," Nick said.

He led the way, walking the horses slowly along the trail. They crossed a long meadow, tall grasses brushing their legs, under the dim light of the moon.

Greg watched Nick's ass undulate in the saddle, the movement looking just as it would if he was fucking. So damn sexy. He wondered if tonight was the night he would fulfill his fantasy. They didn't speak as they rode single file down the path, just listened to the creak of the saddles, the occasional snort from one of the horses and the crickets humming in the dark.

Greg thoroughly enjoyed the view.

When they returned to the barn, they dismounted and Nick stripped the saddle and harness from each of the horses and turned them loose in the small corral. He hoisted a saddle onto each shoulder and walked into the barn, closely followed by Greg.

"Most people don't like the smell," Nick said.

"It's nice," Greg said.

"So have I fulfilled your dream?"

"Not yet," Greg said and leaning closer, kissed Nick on the mouth.

With a gasp, the cowboy dropped both saddles and grabbed Greg, hauling him closer and opened his mouth inviting Greg's tongue inside. Pressing his advantage, Greg moved closer till he had Nick backed up against the wall.

"I want to ride a cowboy," Greg whispered.

"I think that could be arranged," the cowboy whispered back.

Greg's hand moved down to cup the bulge in the cowboy's jeans and he pressed gently. The cowboy's head dropped back against the wall and he closed his eyes with a moan.

"Take off your jeans."

The cowboy dropped his chaps and unbuckled his belt, stripping his jeans, releasing his erect cock to jut proudly from his body. Greg licked his lips and said, "Put the chaps back on."

Nick stooped to pick them up and buckled them back on.

"Turn around."

"Wait a minute," Nick objected, "I thought you wanted to ride me."

"I do," said Greg, "But I'm the one who's going to be doing the riding."

He pushed Nick in the direction of a bale of hay. Snatching a saddle blanket and tossing onto the sharp straw, he said, "Bend over."

Gasping at the gruffness of Greg's voice Nick knelt in front of the bale and bent over it. Greg kicked his legs wider and knelt between them, crooning as his hands cupped the pale globes of Nick's ass framed by the dark leather chaps.

Greg's hands kneaded the well-muscled ass, spreading the cheeks wide, thumbs just brushing over the sensitive entrance. Nick jerked and shuddered under the sensation, so gentle and so tantalizing. He heard the tell-tale click of lube being opened and braced for the cool feeling.

Greg pressed a slick finger to Nick's opening, circling gently, smiling as the cowboy gasped and bucked. "Easy, boy," he murmured. Tenderly he pressed slowly till just the tip of his finger breached the tight ring of muscle. With a soft moan, Nick relaxed his muscles to allow Greg's finger inside.

Greg started a slow rhythm and Nick flexed his hips in time to the finger thrusting in and out. Greg added another finger and curled them, smiling when he found the sensitive bundle of nerves and Nick let out a yelp.

Greg scissored gently and stretched the opening, adding yet another finger until Nick gasped, "Enough. God… do it."

Greg slicked his own painfully erect cock and slowly slid inside, inch by inch, pausing to allow the cowboy to adjust. When his pelvis was pressed against Nick's ass, he stopped, breathing hard, gripping the cowboy's hips and kissing the back of his neck.

When Nick nodded, Greg started a slow glide in and out of the tight velvet heat. Thrusting deeper he increased the pace, slamming his hips against Nick's tight ass. He watched his dick disappear between the cheeks outlined by the chaps and the sight pushed him closer to his climax. Reaching around, he stroked Nick's erection roughly in time to his thrusts. Nick, caught between Greg's hand and his cock, rocked back and forth in ecstasy until he exploded over Greg's hand with a hoarse shout. Without releasing Nick's cock, Greg thrust deeply three times and froze as his orgasm spilled inside Nick's ass.

Limply, he collapsed over Nick's back. After a few minutes in which the silence was broken only by the sound of heavy breathing, Nick turned his head sideways and Greg kissed him on the lips.

"Ride a cowboy, huh?" Nick snickered.

"Well can you blame me?" Greg replied, "You were looking pretty damn rideable and you know I can't resist a man in chaps."

"Remind me never to take you to a rodeo then," said Nick, nuzzling into Greg's neck, "I'd never be able to keep you in line."

"Oh, I'm sure you could find some way," Greg smiled.

Turning serious for a moment, Nick whispered hesitantly, "Could I, Greg? Really?"

Greg turned and looked into Nick's eyes, seeing the slight uncertainty there. He dropped his head and trailed a line of kisses along Nick's jaw up to his ear, pausing to whisper, "It's only you. Forever and always you."


	3. FlyBoys

Fly Boyz X2

Part A: Greg

"All right men, bail out. Now!" Captain Stokes ordered over the radio. He struggled to hold the wings steady but he knew it was only a matter of time 'til the bomber punched it. He glanced back toward the orange glow lighting the tail section and sent up a quick prayer that the gunner had already bailed out.

The navigator burst into the cockpit and checked the copilot, who was sitting slumped over his controls. "He's dead, sir," he shouted over the roar of the engines.

"What the fuck are you doing here man? Get out!" Captain Stokes yelled. "Now!"

"Waiting for you, Captain."

"I can't leave 'til everyone is out. Jump! Now! That's an order!"

"Yes, sir." Lt Sanders saluted, not moving from his position in the cockpit.

One look at his Lt's stoic face told Captain Stokes that he was not going to win this particular battle, so he rose from his seat and gave the young Lt a shove toward the open bomb bay doors. "I'll be right behind you," he assured the Lt, hustling the younger man toward the gaping hole. "See you down there!"

The Lt grinned broadly, the light not reaching his grim eyes, and jumped, pulling the cord. Nick drew a sigh of relief as he saw the chute blossom against the night sky. He clutched his rip cord and inhaled deeply before taking the leap himself.

He peered through the darkness, trying to make out any other parachutes. The flaming B17 veered sideways before nosing down into a spin. If Nick ever caught up with his insubordinate Lt he would give him a dressing down that the young man would not soon forget. They'd both gotten out, but only just in time.

Sending up another prayer for the eight other men in his crew, Nick turned his attention to his landing. His feet hit the ground hard, jarring up his legs and he braced himself against the drag of the chute. He yanked on it, pulling it to him and bundled it as tightly as possible under his jacket. Fucking white parachutes, he'd like to know what genius came up with that idea. Might as well send out a flare to any Germans in the vicinity if you had to jump at night.

He saw a dark line of trees blotting out the stars on the horizon and jogged toward it. He had to hide himself and the parachute until he knew the coast was clear and, if he was lucky, he'd be miles away by the time the Nazi patrols came to investigate.

He'd just reached the tree line when a flash of white off to the left caught his attention. He froze and, peering keenly into the darkness, was able to make out another figure staggering towards the trees. From what he could make out in the dim moonlight, the white appeared to be a parachute which meant that it was one of his men. He whistled like a barn owl.

The other man froze and turned his way. Nick ran toward him and saw that it was his young navigator.

"Greg!" Nick gasped, dropping his chute to gather the other man into a bear hug.

"Unh," came a muffled groan and Greg winced away from Nick's body.

"You're hurt, what is it?" Captain Stokes whispered.

"My arm, I think it's broken," Lt Sanders responded, cradling his left arm.

Nick nodded, quickly calculating their options and pushed him under the shelter of the trees. "Wait for me here. I have to get rid of the chutes."

He bundled both chutes together and hustled into the woods, looking for a likely spot. He found an old fallen tree, the convenient depression where it once stood filled with dead leaves. Carefully he scraped the top layer to the side and then dug through the rotting loam, hoping that he'd be able to make the hollow deep enough to take both the chutes. With his jackknife, he cut away several long strips of the silk and stuffed them into his pocket. Tossing the parachutes into the hole, he kicked the rotting leaves over them covering them thoroughly and then sifted the dried leaves on top, praying that, in the dim light, he was making it look natural.

He then searched the surrounding area for a couple of straight, smooth sticks and was lucky enough to find some.

He returned to where he'd left his young Lt, finding him leaning up against a tree, looking out to the field. "Spot anything?"

Lt Sanders shook his head.

"Follow me," Nick whispered. "Step where I step. Don't shuffle. If you feel a twig underfoot, don't put your weight on it. Try not to disturb the ground cover."

Lt Sanders nodded his understanding and set off after his superior officer. Captain Stokes led the way deeper into the woods, noticing that although the Lt was still cradling his arm, he followed in his footsteps exactly, stepping softly.

Finally, Nick spotted a likely tree. It would take some effort to get the both of them up there, but that in itself would make it less likely that the Germans would look there. Plus the sky was beginning to lighten and they needed to get out of sight.

He whispered into Lt Sanders' ear. "I'm going to boost you into the tree. You have to hang on so I can pull myself up by your legs. Think you can do it?"

"Yes, sir," came the soft whisper.

Quickly, Nick bent, clasping his hands together so Greg could step up. As soon as Greg's boot hit his hand, Nick boosted him up and Greg caught the branch with his good hand, squirming up until he was bent over it on his stomach. "Okay, Captain, all set."

Nick took a running start and grabbed on, swinging his legs up to grip the branch. He muscled his way up and helped Greg to sit upright. From there it was an easy climb to a higher spot where two branches met at the trunk, forming a small hollow where both men could sit. It was a tight squeeze but better than a roomy cell any time.

Looking down, Nick couldn't see the ground through the canopy of leaves so he had to hope a soldier on the ground wouldn't be able to spot them either.

"Let me see that arm," he whispered.

Greg held out his arm and Nick eased his leather jacket off and rolled up his sleeve. One glance at the rapidly swelling forearm combined with the hiss of pain Greg gave as Nick moved his wrist was enough to convince him that it was indeed broken. He produced the sticks and strips of silk from the parachute and splinted the arm with the Lt's assistance. Greg rolled down his sleeve and carefully pulled his jacket back on. "Thanks, Captain," he whispered.

They sat silently, straining to hear any noises beyond the normal rustling of the night creatures. An owl swooped low, startling them both. Finally they heard some voices in the distance and Lt Sanders cocked his head, listening intently.

"They're coming this way. They're looking to see if anyone bailed out."

"You speak German?"

"Some, it's a bit like Norwegian and I learned a little."

They heard noises as the German soldiers half-heartedly searched the forest. After a bit Lt Sanders started shaking, and Captain Stokes was seriously worried that he was succumbing to shock or something worse. However, a glance at the younger mans' face reassured him for Lt Sanders was wearing a huge grin and he was shaking with silent laughter.

Eventually the soldiers moved off and the sounds gradually diminished.

After an hour of silence, Nick ventured to ask, "What was so funny?"

"I guess soldiers in every service, er, question the orders from their superiors, sir," was all Lt Sanders would say flashing a demure smile and Nick had an idea that curse words figured high on the list of the German the Lt had picked up.

After the Germans moved off, the rush of adrenaline which had been sustaining both men at a high level of alertness faded, and they started to feel their fatigue.

"I'll take the first watch. You get some rest," Nick whispered.

Greg nodded, but his eyes remained open and Nick could see the glitter from them in the dawn light. After 15 minutes or so Greg's head started to droop. He started and pulled himself upright but finally gave up the struggle and sagged into sleep. Nick began dozing off as well, only to be pulled back to consciousness by a rattling noise. Opening his eyes to locate it, he realized the young Lt's teeth were chattering with cold. Not wanting the young man to injure himself further with his involuntary shudders, he pulled Greg into his arms, settling his head on his shoulder and tried to warm him.

The warmth of the slender body lulled him into a doze and finally the two men slept, huddled together in the tree.

Nick woke as the sun was sinking in the west. He felt stiff and his back was cold, although he was nice and warm wherever he touched Greg. He waited patiently for the younger man to wake up and finally Lt Sanders stretched and let out a low groan. Nick clapped a hand over his mouth and Greg's eyes flew open, startled. The Captain smiled at him reassuringly, relaxing as the panic left the navigator's eyes.

"I should scout around a bit," he said in a low voice.

"Wait a minute," Greg said, removing Nick's hand from his mouth. "I've got a map and a compass. We went down near the border of Switzerland. I think we're only about twenty to twenty-five miles out. We can walk it, if we do it at night. It lies to the south of where we are now; you'd better take the compass with you."

"What the fuck were we doing near Switzerland?" Nick sputtered.

"When we were hit, I knew Switzerland was the closest neutral territory so I headed us there. I figured we could hoof it if we came down on land, sir."

Captain Stokes looked at his navigator admiringly. "I didn't order you to do that, did I?"

"We can say that you did, sir," the Lt said cheerfully. "You were busy and I figured you wouldn't mind. Much."

"Now, if only we had some food," Nick said mournfully.

"I've got some chocolate," offered Greg.

"Wow, you are prepared," Nick murmured.

Greg blushed. "Actually no, just got a sweet tooth, sir."

"Well it came in handy," Nick grinned. "Hand it over."

Greg groaned softly as he moved to sit upright, realizing for the first time that he'd been huddled against his Captain all this time. "Can you get it, sir? It's on the right side, inside pocket."

Nick's hand brushed against Greg's warm torso and Greg stifled a gasp, looking down to avoid Nick's eyes. Nick froze for a second and then continued the search, withdrawing his hand to triumphantly brandish a pound bar of chocolate.

"You _do _have a sweet tooth," he said, awed. "If we ration it, it should see us to the border."

With difficulty he broke off a piece and gave it to Greg, who held it until he'd snapped off another and put it into his mouth. He broke the remaining chocolate in half, wrapping each part in the torn paper. He tucked one half back in Greg's pocket. "In case we get separated. I'm gonna see if I can find water."

Greg nodded and leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes. Nick was anxious about leaving him, but he couldn't risk taking the Lt with him, his face was white and etched with pain and he would need all his strength for their journey. "I'll be back," he whispered.

How about "Nick took his time scouting and returned to the tree just as night was falling, a fully formed plan now firmly sorted in his mind. "Lt!" he called softly.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Greg's voice sounded angry and scared. "Sir," he added belatedly.

"Can you jump down if I catch you?" asked Nick, deciding to ignore the insubordinate tone of the Lt's voice.

"Yes, sir."

Greg climbed down to the lowest branch and held himself steady with his good hand. At Nick's nod, he let go and dropped into Nick's arms. After an awkward moment during which they stared into each other's eyes, Nick released him. "How's the arm?"

"S'fine. Sir."

"We have to move fast," Nick said heading off to the south. Greg nodded and followed him, being careful to tread only where his superior did. Stopping at the small brook that Nick had found on his reconnaissance, they both drank as much as they could, having nothing to carry water in.

Checking the map and compass, they struck a course that kept them heading roughly south.

"I figure we can make, maybe, 15 miles if we're lucky. Hide out tomorrow and then tomorrow night, we should make the border."

Greg nodded and plowed on behind Nick, thankful that the way they walked was sheltered by thick forests. They drank at every stream and, toward dawn, found themselves near a farm house. After a brief discussion, they decided it was too risky to approach and remained deep in the forest. They found a thick stand of brush and crawled inside, settling in for the day. Nick made sure to cover their tracks and sighed to himself as Greg fell asleep immediately. Nick wondered what the trek was costing him, but he had never uttered a word of complaint.

He woke suddenly from a deep sleep to the sound of voices. He rolled on top of Greg and put his hand over his mouth, shaking him awake. Greg's eyes came open and he looked up into Nick's eyes, nodding when he heard the voices. Nick took his hand away and lowered his head to breathe into Greg's ear, "Getting it?"

Greg nodded. They lay frozen in silence as footsteps came closer and closer. The voices chattered cheerfully as the men moved towards them and Greg strained to catch what they were saying. The men apparently decided this was a fine spot for a picnic and settled in, spending a good forty-five minutes in the secluded clearing. Finally a third voice was heard in the distance and the two shuffled off.

The tension drained from Nick's body and he relaxed over Greg, breathing deeply. Greg whispered, "Woodcutters, not soldiers." Nick turned his head and whispered back, "That was too fucking close." Greg nodded as their eyes met.

Maybe it was the stress of the moment, maybe it was long suppressed desire, but Nick couldn't resist kissing the younger man trapped beneath him. He swallowed the stifled moan that Greg let out, deepening the kiss as the Lt opened his mouth under his determined assault. Their tongues swirled together, and Nick ground his hips down against Greg. Greg grabbed the back of Nick's head with his good hand, crushing their lips together bruisingly and shifted under him. With his splinted arm he reached around Nick's back, holding him as tightly as he could.

They rubbed frantically against each other, silently writhing on the soft forest floor. Nick suddenly remembered Greg's injured arm and rolled onto his side, bringing Greg with him. With his good hand, Greg reached for the bulge straining the crotch of Nick's pants and pulled down the zipper. Nick's hips bucked with his surprise and he wrenched his mouth off Greg's to gasp, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to make my superior officer comfortable, sir," Greg whispered with a huge grin. He levered himself upright and slid down Nick's body. Nick gasped and thrust into Greg's mouth as he felt the warmth and wetness surround his erect cock.

Greg took the head into his mouth and licked all around it, carefully nibbling the sensitive ridge. He licked a hot line down the shaft, smiling as Nick stifled a moan. Finally, relaxing his throat, he took in as much as he could, gripping the base with his good hand. He set a slow pace but Nick soon lost control and his hips thrust up powerfully, fucking Greg's mouth. Greg closed his eyes and hummed in contentment, savoring the taste and the delicious hardness of his superior officer. He sucked hard, all soft lips and tongue, holding the base of Nick's cock to prolong the inevitable as long as possible.

Nick felt the vibration caused by Greg's humming and the intensity built in his groin, burning with the need for release. His hips flexed faster and he gripped Greg's head, holding him steady as he thrust hard into the warm heat of his mouth. He knew he was on the brink and tried to warn Greg, but couldn't get out more than a gasping, "Greg!"

Greg closed his eyes, swallowing Nick's load with satisfaction. He cleaned Nick's cock and then paused, struggling with the task of how to put him back in order with only one hand. Nick's hands came down and he took care of it himself.

"Thank you, Lt," he said softly.

"My pleasure, sir," Lt Sanders replied promptly. He wriggled a little, trying to ease his own erection.

"Hold still, I'll get it for you," Nick murmured into Greg's ear, his breath hot against the shell, tongue darting out for a quick taste.

"Oh, no, sir, there's no need," Lt Sanders responded.

"On your back, fly boy, and that's an order," Captain Stokes commanded. He wasn't quite sure how to do this and, obviously, either Lt Sanders was an extremely gifted natural or had gained experience somewhere. But he wanted desperately to taste the other man, to feel a hard dick in his mouth. So he tried to think of anything anyone had ever done to him that he'd enjoyed and imitate it. First he swirled his tongue around the head, encouraged by the movement of Greg's hips and the tiny sound that escaped his throat. He looked up to see the Lt lying with his mouth open, good arm thrown across his eyes, back arching off the ground, breathing heavily. He knew the feeling.

Nick grinned and dipped down again to take the head into his mouth and suck. Delicious. He'd never wanted to do this for anyone before, usually the other man was on his knees to Nick, but there was something about Lt Sanders. Those eyes, those lush lashes contrasted against the creamy skin that flushed so beautifully whenever Nick got a little too close. Whenever Lt Sanders sprang to attention, Nick's cock followed suit. And after all the fear and tension of the day, he would be damned if he didn't take this chance while he could.

Greg moved his fist into his mouth, biting it to smother the involuntary sounds as the Captain slowly tortured him with his delicate attention. Nick wasn't sure he could take in as much as Greg had, but he tried to relax and swallow as much of the beautiful, stiff erection as he could. He let his saliva drip into his fist and stroked the length he couldn't take, holding Greg's hip down with his other hand. Greg sounded as if he might explode with the slow pace the Captain set. He couldn't thrust into the other man's mouth with his hip pressed to the ground but despite this restraint he felt the wave of his orgasm wash over him far too quickly. With a small whimper, he released into Nick's mouth, wishing he could scream his ecstasy to the world instead.

Nick put Greg's cock back in his pants and zipped him up, then scooted up his body to kiss him again. "We're gonna have to do that again when we have more time," he whispered.

"Yes sir!" Greg responded enthusiastically, enjoying the taste of himself on the other mans lips.

"I'm afraid we'll have to make a move now," Nick answered with another kiss. He pulled Greg to his feet, noticing him weave slightly. He laughed to himself. He knew that feeling too.

They plodded through the night without further incident. It was about 4 am when they approached the Swiss border. They could see the checkpoint with the Nazi guards and sat down to rest, wondering how they could circumvent the border check. It seemed like miles of barbed wire was strung along either side of the gate.

"Hände hoch!"

Both men looked at each other regretfully and raised their arms.

"Amerikaner?"

Captain Stokes spun to look at their captor, who turned out to be a young man of about nineteen with a gun. "Yes," he answered shortly.

"Name, rank, serial number?"

Both Americans reeled off their information.

The young man lowered his gun. "You are looking for a way into die Schwiez?"

Greg and Nick looked at each other, hope dawning in their eyes.

"Ja. Können Sie uns helfen?" Greg asked.

"Sie sprechen Deutsches?"

"Nur ein bisschen."

"Wundervoll. Folgen Sie mir."

"Wo Sie uns nehmend sind?"

"In Die Schweiz. Sie möchten dort gehen, nach rechts? Ich bin kein Nazi." The young man smiled widely at them. "Ich mag Amerikaner."

"What's he saying?" Nick asked urgently.

"He says he'll take us across and he's no Nazi, he likes Americans," Greg said with a tense smile. "I hope he's telling us the truth."

They followed as the young man led them further south to a spot out of sight of the border where the barbed wire had been cut and arranged to look as if intact. He pointed a way through the maze. He pressed a small scrap of paper into Greg's hand. "Go there, please. Krankenhaus, sie helfen."

"Dankeschön, vielen dank." Greg shook the young man's hand fervently. Nick did as well and said, "If you're ever in Texas, look us up."

The young man laughed and nodded. "Go. Schnell!" He turned away and the two Americans crawled through the wire to the other side. Without a backwards glance they set out for the town, bypassing the border.

The sun was just coming up when they reached the hospital. As soon as they set foot inside, hospital staff whisked them away from the door. After a frenzy of questioning and x-raying, they were finally left together in a small room with two narrow metal beds and Greg's arm was set and splinted.

Captain Stokes waited until the last nurse left the room and crossed to Greg's bed. Shoving him closer to the wall he got in, pulling Greg into his arms and resting his head on his shoulder. He kissed him softly and Greg responded sleepily in spite of the shot he'd been given.

"Ever think of living in Texas?"

"Um, no, sir, I haven't."

"Well you should give it some thought," Captain Stokes said with a grin.

"How come you wanted to do Europe?"

"I know about the Pacific theater, but you know, Papa Olaf. The war in Europe is what I grew up hearing about. For me, it's _the_ war."

Pausing to reflect on something they could barely comprehend, both men sat silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Greg sighed and turned to Nick who grabbed his hand and said soberly "To Papa Olaf."

_Translation:_

_The young man lowered his gun. "You are looking for a way into Switzerland?"_

_Greg and Nick looked at each other, hope dawning in their eyes._

"_Yes. Can you help us?" Greg asked._

"_You speak German?"_

"_Only a little."_

"_Wonderful. Follow me."_

"_Where are you taking us?"_

"_To Switzerland. That's where you want to go, right? I'm not a Nazi." The young man smiled widely at them. "I like Americans."_

"_What's he saying?" Nick asked urgently._

"_He says he'll take us across and he's no Nazi, he likes Americans," Greg said with a tense smile. "I hope he's telling us the truth."_

_But the young man led them further to the south to a spot out of sight of the border where the barbed wire had been cut and arranged to look as if intact. He pointed a way through the maze. He pressed a small scrap of paper into Greg's hand. "Go there, please. Hospital, they'll help you there."_

"_Thank you, thank you very much." Greg shook the young man's hand fervently. Nick did as well and said, "If you're ever in Texas, look us up."_

_The young man laughed and nodded. "Go. Quickly!"_

Part Deux: Nick

"Damn college flyboy," Nick growled, watching the Thrush come in for a landing. He strode forward onto the tarmac to meet the young punk with the reaming he deserved.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing out there, you asshole!" he yelled as Greg pushed back the cowling and hopped out onto the wing.

"What the fuck are you talking about, old man? You wanted the fucking fire put out, didn't you?"

"When you fly with me, you do as you're told, you cocksucker!"

"You wish!" Greg snapped, walking away from the older man.

"You can't dive like that–" Nick grabbed the younger man's arm, yanking him to a halt.

"_You_ can't dive like that in that fucking tank you fly," taunted Greg. "The Thrush is built for it. I can go where you can't, dive, pick up a load and lift up again where you can't. And I can do a turn around in under two minutes. So don't you fucking tell me what I can and can't do based on your limitations."

Nick reined in his temper. "Greg, listen, I've flown every fucking thing that can drop water from an M18 to a 'copter. That fucking puddle-jumper you fly bounces on the hot air rising off the fire. You drop the load and your nose could pitch up suddenly, you lose air speed and you punch a fucking hole in the ground. You're not much of a loss but we can't afford to lose the fucking airplane." By the time Nick finished he was yelling again and a crowd of men had gathered around. "And with that broken arm you are not 100. You're not fit. Fuck, I shouldn't be letting you fly at all." He turned and walked away, muttering, "Fucking college kid."

Greg stood looking after him, an angry flush coloring his cheeks. "Thinks he's a fucking big man, I'd like to see him try to out-fly me." He walked to his bungalow to clean up and wash the dirt and frustration away. After a quick shower, he went over to the canteen to relax over an ice cold beer.

He rolled his eyes and retired to a far table with his beer. Nick was shouting at the bar with a couple of his cronies, yelling about college kids and how things were done in his day and these new flyers who couldn't hold their wings level on windless day.

A few of the younger men came over to Greg's table, sitting down to join him. "How do you get away with mouthing off to him?" David asked.

"Because he can't afford to lose me," Greg replied arrogantly. "He knows I can fly as fucking well as he can, probably better."

"Shit, man! Don't talk so loud, he'll hear you!"

"So? It's the fucking truth and he knows it," Greg laughed. "I got nothing to hide."

"Sanders, running your fucking mouth off as usual?" Nick actually looked more amused than angry.

"As usual, sir," Greg replied mockingly.

"Better take care of that mouth, you may need all that hot air to blow yourself back to base one of these days when you ditch that puddle-jumper," Nick laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure you can supply enough hot air to get us all back to base, _sir_" Greg laughed back.

Nick walked away shaking his head. "Cocksure young asshole."

Greg finished his third beer and decided to call it a night. He walked back to his bungalow, feeling pleasantly loose and relaxed and just slightly buzzed from the alcohol. He stepped inside and was instantly pinned up against the wall, held in place by strong hands while Nick's mouth was crushed to his, tongue demanding entrance.

Gasping, his mouth opened and Nick's tongue was inside. Shoving hard against the larger man, Greg fought back, nipping his lips and thrusting his own tongue inside Nick's mouth and sucked the older mans' tongue strongly.

"You little cocksucker!" Nick groaned.

"You wish you had enough to suck," Greg jeered.

"On your knees, flyboy." Nick pushed Greg to his knees and unzipped his pants.

"You got a fire you want put out?"

"You think you can do it, college boy?"

"You know I can," Greg said throatily and leaned forward to capture Nick's cock in his mouth. He sucked greedily, working the shaft with his good hand, swirling his tongue around the head and licking the ridge, pressing the sensitive vein that throbbed underneath.

Nick threw back his head and howled, holding Greg's head firmly in place as he thrust his hips forward faster. Greg gagged but sucked noisily as he struggled to swallow the rigid length.

"Enough!" Nick gasped. "I'm going to fuck your tight little ass till you can't sit down for a week."

"Is that a promise?" Greg let go of Nick's cock with a little slurpy noise and moved his fingers around to knead his ass, giving one final lick along the underside of the shaft.

"You know it is," Nick said, hauling him to his feet.

"Bring it on, old man. Let's see what you got."

"Always so fucking cocky," murmured Nick into his mouth. Then he spun him suddenly to face the wall, placing his hands flat against it. "Don't move," he ordered.

Greg stood obediently still as Nick's hands gripped his waist, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. He pushed them to the floor and kicked Greg's feet as wide as they could go while still trapped in the pants. Greg felt a slippery finger probe his entrance and bent over more, pushing his ass into Nick's hand. The finger slipped in to the hilt and Nick's palm cupped Greg's ass.

Greg whimpered and pushed back harder. "Is that the best you can do old man?" he panted.

Nick pulled his finger out and replaced it with two, making Greg jump at the sudden invasion. He moved his fingers impatiently, getting the younger man ready.

"Fuck, just… do it already… please," Greg moaned.

"Please what, flyboy? Tell me exactly what you want or you're not going to get it. Beg for it!"

"Please shove your hard cock up my ass and fuck me till I'm screaming for it and I can't stand up I'm shaking so bad," Greg growled.

"Is this what you want?" Nick held his cock so it teased Greg's entrance. Greg pushed back and Nick moved away.

"Yes, I want your cock up my ass…now!" Greg snarled. "Fuck me, dammit! I want to feel this tomorrow. I want to taste your spunk when you cum so deep and hard…"

Wrapping one arm around Greg's chest, Nick lined himself up and pushed inside in one long hard thrust. Greg gave a strangled cry and pushed his ass back forcefully.

"Ride me hard, dammit!"

"Nobody's ever gonna fuck you the way you want except for me, you're always gonna come back for more, flyboy," Nick growled into Greg's ear.

He grabbed Greg's hips in an iron grip, knowing there'd be perfect bruises there tomorrow. Just another little something for Greg to remember him by. He slammed into Greg and pulled his feet further away from the wall so he was bent almost double.

"Your ass is so tight, so perfect," he groaned. "I could fuck you forever."

"Unnnh, fuck me… fuck me forever. I want your cock up my ass forever." Greg writhed against the wall as Nick's hand came around and grabbed his cock, stroking him roughly in time to his thrusts. "Unnh, fuck me… harder!"

Nick picked up the pace, pounding into Greg, hitting his prostate with every stroke. Greg was caught helplessly thrusting between Nick's fist and ramming back onto his cock, delirious with pleasure.

Nick's breath came faster as he exclaimed, "Come for me, you little bastard! Come on!" He bit down on the crook of Greg's neck.

Greg's voice rose in a stream of babble, crying out with every thrust. His head hung down between his shaking arms, shivers rolling through his body. Warmth pooled in his groin as his climax built and finally he spewed hot liquid over Nick's hand and the wall.

His ass clamped down tightly as he twisted, impaled on Nick's cock. The hot velvet passage clenching his erection was too much for Nick and he thrust hard into Greg's ass, coming with a great roar.

The two men stood shaking against the wall, their erratic breathing slowing, sweat pouring down their bodies. Nick kissed the side of Greg's neck softly, licking over the bruise his bite had left. "You little cocksucker," he said fondly.

"Is that foreplay? 'Cuz I don't think I can get it up again for, oh, at least another fifteen minutes or so," Greg said weakly.

"I can wait," Nick said, with a little thrust to remind Greg of whose cock was up whose ass.

Greg pulled away slowly and turned in Nick's arms. "Kiss me, you asshole."

Nick pressed him up against the wall, holding the trembling body still under his weight. "Careful what you call me, cocksucker," he teased.

After kissing softly for a few minutes, Greg asked, "Want to hit the hay?"

"Yeah," Nick said and they stumbled into the bedroom, taking off the rest of their clothing. They fell into bed and were asleep in a minute, curled in each other's arms.

Nick woke with a start, hearing the distinctive whine of the Thrush's engine turning over. He rolled over in bed, but it was empty. Quickly he pulled his clothes on and rushed outside, just in time to see the Thrush pass overhead. "Damn him!" He ran for the tower and burst in demanding, "Who authorized that cocksucker to take off?"

"Hodges did, sir."

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

"Hodges?"

"No, Sanders! He has no business going up; he had three beers last night and no time off. What the fuck is he thinking?"

"Well, there's a tight fire, we needed the small plane and who else can fly it?"

"I can, you fuckwit!" Nick turned and ran down to the tarmac. He listened. He could hear the engine in the far distance, he heard it skip and his heart sank. He listened to the distinctive sound of the firegate opening and saw the smoke turn white, then the frantic whine as the engine pulled up, free of its load. Then the silence followed by an echoing crash.

He slumped to the tarmac, tears streaming down his face. "That cocksucker," he moaned.

"Baby, what's the matter?" Greg walked quietly onto the deserted tarmac and rushed to Nick, holding him in his arms.

"No more you dying in a role play," Nick sobbed. "I can't take it. When I thought I'd lost you… it was too fucking real." He shook his head and his tears started to flow again.

Greg sat on his lap and put his good arm around Nick. "Oh baby, I'm sorry. I really didn't need to die; I just thought it would make the last fuck more… memorable."

"All our fucks are memorable," Nick gulped, becoming a bit embarrassed about being caught sobbing by his young lover.

"Yeah, they are," Greg said dreamily, "Even if you have to call me a cocksucker."

"Well, you are one," Nick pointed out.

"A great one! Why did I have to have the broken arm?" Greg thought it was time to change the subject.

"Well, you _have_ a broken arm. I thought it would be cool to work it into the game."

"So is that why I went down on that last mission?" Greg asked anxiously.

"If that's the reason you want," Nick said tenderly, kissing him.

"Yeah, I don't want it to be my flying," Greg said decidedly. "I don't want you to be right, old man."

"As long as you remember my fucking you for a week, you can be the better flyer," Nick said with a laugh.


	4. CollegeBoys

Part A: Greg

Walking into the pub behind Peter I almost run right up the ass of him as he comes to a dead stop in the doorway. "Dude, move it," I mutter as I give him a quick shove out of the way and step into the room. Too late I notice why he stopped. Fuck, the place is full of Frat boys on Pledge week. I'd completely forgotten that was this week.

Shit, now they're looking over at us, morons. Okay, two options here, leave and be laughed out of existence, and possibly chased and harassed in the street or stay. Oh well, 'at least they've got beer in here' I think as I walk over to the one empty table at the back of the room. Peter follows me in, but I know he's thinking I've officially lost my mind this time.

"Dude," Peter hisses as we sit down, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? We're gonna get creamed here. I mean, these are Frat boys, do ya think they're gonna leave us alone for one second?"

"Chill, man, look, just get out the board and I'll go up and get a couple of brews, okay? It'll be cool." I hear him grumbling something about this not being Australia and smile as I make my way up to the bar. We'd had an awesome time on our "study abroad" semester there, and it was true, no one really cared if you sat down to play a game of chess with your beer.

"Hey, check out the nerd squad," I hear as I reach the bar. Ignoring the comment and the laughter it provokes, I pay for the beers and start to walk back to our table, careful not to look anywhere other than where I'm headed. So, of course, I don't even see it coming. A jostle from the left and beer slops down the front of my shirt, soaking through to my skin underneath and a huge shout of laughter fills the bar. "Assholes," I mutter under my breath as I continue on my way.

"Greg, man, look, let's just get out of here okay?" Peter almost begs as I sit down, "We can go back to the dorm and play a game there. It'll be quiet, no dickwad Frat boys, and hey, Julie might even be there. C'mon."

"And no beer either, Pete. Look, we're here and no fucking idiot Frat boys are going to scare me off. Anyway, I know the real reason you wanna go back to the dorm is so's you can get in Julie's pants."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't invalidate my point about the Frat boys. I mean, dude, just look at them. Morons to a one," he says gesturing at the biggest group of them standing by the bar.

Turning in my seat I take a look at the group Peter's pointing at. Half of them are busy throwing peanut shells at each other while the other half are chanting "chug, chug, chug" at some sucker who looks like he's trying to down a gallon of beer in one go. Except for one. He's staring directly back at me, eyes dark and an inscrutable expression on his face. Now _that_ is worrying.

His attention is distracted by one of the other doofuses who notices him staring over in our direction. The doofus says something, pointing our way, and dark-eyes laughs with him.

Suddenly I'm not so sure that the plan to brave it out is such a good one, there's just something about the way that guy's looking at us that's making me nervous. I'm beginning to understand how a gazelle feels when it realises it's surrounded by a pride of hungry lions.

"Greg, hey, earth to Greg." Peter's voice brings me back to reality and I turn back to look at him. "Dude, seriously, drink your beer and let's get outta here man. I don't like the vibe I'm getting." Somehow he's managed to pack the board away and skol his beer without me even noticing.

"Yeah, sure Pete, whatever." I say, still thinking about those dark eyes and wondering what exactly was going on behind them.

"Greg, come on man." He's standing up now and looking worried, "Shit. Greg, they're on their way over here man. Let's. Go." And with that he takes off towards the door

"Okay, okay, jeeze Pete, when did you turn into such a pussy?" I finish my beer and get up from the table to follow him only to feel hands on my shoulders push me back down again. Fuck. It's the doofus from the bar, the one who was talking to dark-eyes, who, I note, is nowhere to be seen. Great, just fucking great.

"Did I give you permission to leave geekboy?" the doofus asks and smiles at his brothers like he's the funniest thing on earth. "Cos I don't remember telling you that you could walk away."

Right, he thinks he's a comedian, excellent. He's also way drunker than I thought he was, as are the rest of his friends. This is starting to be officially the worst idea I ever had. I stand up again and smile at them, "No, you didn't, but I really don't need permission from a bunch of apes like you now, do I? I mean, telling people how to walk when you've clearly only just mastered it yourselves, tough job you've taken on there fellas."

"Think you're the smart one, huh?" says the doofus evoking a chorus of laughter from his friends

"Well, no, I _know_ I'm the smart one, after all I'm not the one wearing boots cos I don't know how to tie shoe laces am I? And on that note gentlemen, I'll be off. Thanks for the entertainment, it's been a blast." I make my move away from the table to the door, hoping like hell that Peter's still waiting outside for me.

A hand on my arm stops me short and swings me 'round and I'm face to face with one very pissed looking doofus. "Running away to join your faggot boyfriend, huh? Gonna go cry to him about how mean the nasty big boys have been to ya? Well then, let's give ya something to fucking cry about."

'Fucking good one, Sanders, just can't keep your smartass mouth shut can you?' I think as I brace myself for the blow. Maybe the guy is just too drunk, but he pulls back for the longest wind-up ever. Fuck, I could have ducked that punch while writing the assignment I had due in Organic Chem. So I do, tucking and rolling between his legs, and coming up on my feet. I should have just run for it but I can't resist looking back to see one of his meathead buddies bent over holding his bloody nose. I snicker and turn to go but just as I move towards the door another of the fratbrats grabs me by the arms and pulls me back against him.

"Got him, Duane, go on give him another shot," he calls out, grinning.

"You little faggot, I'll show you," he snorts, eyes wide and bloodshot.

"Witty repartee," I murmur sarcastically.

I squirm and kick, trying to stamp down on my captor's instep exactly like Jackie Chan would, but he just laughs at my efforts. Duane, doofus #1, turns, his face red with rage and beer, and winds up for another punch. Just as I'm giving up all hope for a graduation photo, his fist stops in midair.

"Duane, Duane, what's the rush, man?"

It's dark-eyes, holding the doofus' arm back in a firm grip, not even straining with the effort. I roll my eyes in disgust, but also partly to hide the sudden tears. Is he going to join in too? He seems sober and therefore much scarier than any of these drunken bozos.

Duane turns angrily to shake his arm free from dark-eyes' grip. I feel my personal doofus' hold loosen as his attention turns to the other men and, wrenching free, I plunge for the door. I run out and down the alley at the side of the bar, and shit, fuck, it's a dead end. As I turn to run back past the dumpster I feel someone grab my wrist and drag me into the shadows behind it. I open my mouth to shout but it's dark-eyes.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he hisses at me. "You shoot your mouth off like that too often you're gonna get your ass kicked."

"So, what else is new?" I smart mouth right back him, pissed that he would yell at me. For fucks' sake, what about those jerks and how they were acting?

"Look at you; you're as skinny as a twig. Those guys are on the football team, they'll throw you around like–"

"I can take care of myself," I just about shout.

"Yeah and you were doing a hell of a job of it in there," dark-eyes smirks at me. "Those kind of guys are always afraid guys like you are gonna come on to them."

"Or maybe they're afraid I won't!" I sneer.

"You are such an idiot!"

"Fuck you!"

Suddenly my back hits the brick wall hard enough to knock the breath out of me and his hands grip my upper arms tightly. His mouth is inches away from mine and I can feel his hot breath puff over my lips as he says, "It's a question of weight and leverage, you see? I outweigh you, so I get to control you."

I stare into his eyes, watching with surprise as irritation turns into lust and the aggression, well it just stays aggressive. He lowers himself against me as if doing a very slow push-up and I whimper as I feel his erection pressing against my thigh.

As my mouth opens to gasp for air, he thrusts his tongue inside, roughly invading, exploring, sliding his tongue over mine. He moans slightly and I lunge toward him, opening my mouth to him and grinding my hips against his.

As I arch off the wall, our denim-covered cocks come into contact, rubbing frantically together. He still has my upper arms in a strong grip, his fingers biting into my muscles hard enough to bruise, but I can still circle my forearms around his body. So I do, grabbing his ass with my hands, cupping and squeezing, pulling him as close as I could.

And damn, where did this come from? He was _with_ those guys and now he practically attacks me in the alley? He wrenches his mouth off mine; moaning and panting, and I take the opportunity to latch onto his neck, sucking at the golden skin. He yelps as I bite down and I sooth the spot, licking it hotly, enjoying the salty sweet taste of him.

He releases my arms and I spin us around, pressing him against the wall, taking control and he surrenders to me with a whimper. Now it's my turn to kiss him, control him and I nip at his lower lip, demanding entry. He opens his mouth with a groan and his hands roam over my back, one slipping under my t-shirt, so hot against my skin, while the other slides inside my jeans and boxers, fingertips digging into my ass, hauling me closer.

I let go of his mouth and latch onto his neck, covering a throbbing pulse point, sucking and licking in a flurry of uncontrolled kisses.

The world spins around me as he rolls off the wall and turns us, pinning me against it again. I can feel the bite of the rough bricks through my t-shirt as I grab the back of his head, pulling him closer for another insanely hot kiss.

His hands are still cupping and squeezing my ass and he kicks my legs apart, thrusting upward against me. Our cocks are sliding against each other and I arch up against him as hard as I can.

I look at him; his eyes are half closed, his mouth, swollen and red from our kisses, open and gasping for air, his head back and his throat working. And then he's coming, pushing me harder against the wall as he rides out his climax, grinding savagely against my groin, staring into my eyes.

God, he's so beautiful! I forget all about my own aching cock until he opens those soft, dark eyes fully. He dives for my neck and licks my Adam's apple. Fuck! Then his hand is cupping the bulge in my jeans and I'm coming, helplessly hanging onto his shoulders as my knees sag with the overwhelming rush of my orgasm.

He leans against me, hot, sweaty, gasping for air. I don't know how his jeans feel, but mine are wet and sticky, my cock is too sensitive and each rub of my jeans against it is torture. But, God, I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

"Fuck!" he breathes against my ear, "Came in my pants like a fucking teenager."

"I _am_ a teenager," I laugh. "I have an excuse."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. You?"

"Fuck, I'm twenty-four," he pulls off me to stare again. "You're jail bait."

"Don't worry," I sigh, adjusting myself. "I won't turn you in. Especially if you do that again."

He smiles at that. "Such a smart, dirty little mouth," he murmurs and plants a soft kiss. He cocks his head, hearing a noise.

"Come on, we better get out of here," he holds his hand out. I grab it but balk as he pulls me deeper into the alley.

"That's a dead end, there's no way out."

Raised voices alert us that his doofus friends are yelling about faggots as they leave the bar.

"You wanna go back that way," he asks, with a curious little smile, "Or do you trust me?"

"I trust you, dark-eyes," I say and follow him deeper into the shadows.

He boosts me over the brick wall, his hands on my ass and I can barely concentrate as I drop to the other side. I hear him take a running leap and he hoists himself up and over.

"So, where should we go from here?" I ask.

Part Deux: Nicky

I was standing at the bar with my brothers, bored as hell, wondering again why I went Greek? Oh, yeah, I was a legacy. My father and older brother had belonged and, provided you weren't a complete dork, the fraternity pretty much had to accept you.

I guess after being the science-geek in high school it did give me a feeling of belonging and I liked the service aspect, but fuck, pledge week was torture. I hated the hazing, hated the pathetic looks in the eyes of the guys hoping to be chosen, hated the excessive drinking. Not that I couldn't drink to excess but I didn't; the risks were too great because my brothers might find out. But at least I had an excuse, being a grad student I had to study.

So I go along to the bar and stand listening with half an ear, which is all the conversation deserves, when Duane's attention is drawn by a geek in the doorway. He's pale and tall, skinny as hell with a prominent Adam's apple and red curly hair.

As I watch he's shoved to one side and the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen comes in behind him. They seem to be having a bit of an argument, but Red follows the beautiful boy over to a table and pulls out a chess board, setting it up.

Fuck! Does he have a death wish? He might as well have turned on a neon sign over his head, saying 'kick my ass'. The beautiful one comes to the bar and gets two beers and, as he turns to go back to his table, one of my 'brothers' bumps him, spilling the beer over his shirt. His lips move, but I can't hear what he says as, instead of confronting Clark, he just continues back to his table.

He looks over at my group; our eyes meet and I feel a jolt of energy. Damn! He is fucking hot; big, dark eyes with the thickest lashes I've ever seen, the sort of bedroom eyes that send tingles straight to my cock. His skin is pale and creamy; his dark hair is spiked and messy. I want to lick his lips, well, that would do to start with anyway. What I'd really like to do is make that creamy skin flush with desire and hear his voice broken with need and moaning my name.

His needle-neck companion draws his attention back, whispering urgently and shoving the chess board into his pocket. Beautiful boy nods, and Red takes off for the door, abandoning him. Too late I notice my companions moving to circle my beautiful boy and I sigh. No doubt I'm gonna have to do something about this.

First the big talk and the challenges. From the clever look on his face I can see that my beautiful boy is mouthing off. Why do the skinny ones always have such fucking smart mouths?

I laugh to myself as I see beautiful boy duck Duane's punch; I've told Duane often enough that even blind Freddie could duck that roundhouse. I'm startled as I see B.B. tuck and roll between Duane's legs and come up on his feet behind him. Nice move!

But he hesitates and Clark grabs him from behind, egging Duane on to hit him. Okay, that's my cue. B.B. isn't going to get away from Clark.

I grab Duane's arm before he connects and hope that B.B. can get away. Surprise works for us, he runs for the door and I see him turn down the alley at the side of the pub. Leaving Duane to yell at Clark for letting him go, I slip out the back door into the same alley and hide in the shadows next to the dumpster. He runs back past on his way out and I grab his wrist, dragging him back into the shadows with me.

Fuck, he's hot! He's all out of breath, his mouth hanging open and his eyes blazing with excitement. I can imagine he'd look just like that, moving under me, writhing as I –

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I hiss at him. "You shoot your mouth off like that too often you're gonna get your ass kicked."

"So, what else is new?" he smart mouths right back me. Jeeze, doesn't he have any sense of self-preservation?

"Look at you; you're as skinny as a twig. Those guys are on the football team, they'll throw you around like–"

"I can take care of myself," he virtually shouts, and he looks – hurt.

"Yeah and you were doing a hell of a job of it in there," I smirk. "Those kind of guys are always afraid guys like you are gonna come on to them."

"Or maybe they're afraid I won't!" he smirks and I just want to slap him – or kiss him. Actually, no, I'd much rather kiss that damn smart look off his face.

"You are such an idiot!"

"Fuck you!"

So I slam him against the brick wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him and hold him still by his upper arms. His mouth is enticingly close but I try to control myself, saying, "It's a question of weight and leverage, you see? I outweigh you, so I get to control you." I shiver with delight as I think about controlling him, getting him to do what I want.

I stare into his eyes, seeing the hunger there and lower myself against him slowly, pressing my erection against his thigh.

His mouth opens, gasping for air, the tip of his pink tongue visible and enticing. I have the strategic advantage and lower my mouth to his, thrusting my tongue inside roughly. He tastes of beer and mint and, sliding my tongue over his, I moan slightly at the sensation. I'm surprised as he responds instantly, lunging up against me as much as he can, opening his mouth to me.

I slam my crotch against him, lining up my cock with his. He's hard as a rock and I grab him tighter, holding him in place as I grind against him. Suddenly I feel his hands on my ass, pulling me closer, squeezing and rubbing.

I need air. Reluctantly I pull my mouth away from his and immediately he attacks my neck, biting, scraping wetly with his sharp teeth, then latching on and sucking. Damn! I yelp as he bites hard. That's gonna leave a mark!

The minute I let go of his arms, he spins us around, reversing our positions and now I'm pressed up against the wall under him. I don't let him know I could pin him again in an instant, instead I open my mouth to him, letting him take the lead, curious as to what he might do. I reach under his t-shirt. Fuck! His skin is so hot, so smooth, it feels as creamy soft as it looks and somehow I've got to get my hands on more of it. I work my other hand under his baggy jeans and inside his boxers, gasping with delight as I dig my fingers into his tight, rounded ass cheek hard enough to leave bruises.

He's biting and sucking at my neck again. I roll off the wall and pin him against it for a second time, leaning my weight against him to quell his struggles. I feel his hand on the back of my head, pulling me close for a kiss.

I've had these encounters in alleys before, hand jobs, blow jobs, but never any kissing. But I just can't resist the smart, gorgeous mouth on this beautiful boy and I dive in for more.

I spread his legs apart, feeling his hands drop to my ass, pulling me closer. I can't help myself and grind into him as hard as I can, sliding our erections together, feeling the heat of his dick through the denim between us.

I'm so close, I can't stop, even though I wish we were anywhere but this dirty alley, sticky with old beer under our feet. He's far too beautiful for this; I find myself picturing a soft bed and candlelight and wonder where this flight of fancy is coming from. And then I'm coming. I look at him, his lips all swollen and wet from our kisses, his head thrown back against the wall, the column of his throat exposed and vulnerable to me. I grind into him savagely as I come hard in my pants.

He's staring at me with those beautiful liquid eyes open wide in wonder. I have to lick his neck, to taste him, so I do, moving my hand to cover the bulge in his jeans. I press and squeeze gently and suddenly he's bucking under me, coming with a lot of little moans and whimpers. I feel his knees start to sag and press harder against him to hold him up.

I'm hot, sweaty, and gasping for air.

"Fuck!" I say into his ear, "Came in my pants like a fucking teenager."

"I _am_ a teenager," he laughs. "I have an excuse."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. You?"

"Fuck, I'm twenty-four," I pull off him to stare at him in dismay. He's underage. I can't do this. "You're jail bait."

"Don't worry," he sighs, adjusting himself. "I won't turn you in. Especially if you do that again." He smiles at me so uncertainly, so unlike the smart-ass I first thought he was.

I smile at him, I can't resist. "Such a smart, dirty little mouth." I lean in and plant a soft kiss, but stop as I hear a noise.

"Come on, we better get out of here," I hold out my hand and he puts his into mine. I feel a possessive thrill as I close my fingers over his slender hand and pull him toward the back of the alley.

"That's a dead end, there's no way out."

Duane is so fucking loud when he's drunk, yelling about hunting faggots. Remind me again why I went Greek?

"You wanna go back that way," I ask him, "Or do you trust me?" I really wonder if he does, considering I just jumped him and molested him in an alley.

"I trust you, dark-eyes." My heart soars as I hear that from him and my hand trembles a bit as I pull him further into the shadows.

I boost him over the brick wall, my hands all over his ass. I take a running leap and hoist myself up and over, dropping lightly to the other side where he stands waiting for me.

"So, where should we go from here?" he asks, smiling.

"So, where did we go from there?" Greg asked idly, running his fingers over Nick's chest, admiring the cut muscles.

"We went to the gym."

"The gym?" Greg rose up on an elbow, looking down at Nick. "Did we fuck in the gym?"

"Nope, I worked you out so you wouldn't keep getting your ass kicked," Nick snickered.

"You asshole," Greg said fondly, punching Nick in the arm.

"That the best you can do, geekboy?" Nick rolled Greg under him and pinned his hands on either side of his head.

"Try me," Greg retorted thrusting his hips up under Nick.

"Maybe later," Nick murmured, lowering his head to kiss Greg's lips. "I have a little homework for you to do right now."

"Mmmm, bring it on," Greg whispered.


	5. RomanticBoys

RomanticBoyz X2

b Part A: Nicky /b 

Sometimes Nick thought Greg had ESP. Or maybe it was just magic. He could never figure out how Greg could manage to call his cell and just leave a message; his timing was perfect. If he didn't want to talk in person he always called while Nick was on the phone, but how did he know?

He listened to the message: "Nicky, I'm sorry. Can you meet me tonight at the bluff overlooking Lake Mead? About seven? Please come."

Nick smiled a little sadly. He was still angry but he knew he'd be there. It was a special spot for them. Up on that bluff they'd spent time just talking, getting to know each other better back when they were "just friends". Although Nick didn't really think there was ever a time they were just friends.

He knew from the moment he met Greg that this man was going to be important in his life. Greg was so full of life, even when he was completely still; he just wanted to look at him. People were attracted to him, they laughed at his jokes and his energy, the way he bopped around like a kid. People always touched him.

About two weeks after Greg was hired, Nick had been surprised to realize that he himself was always touching Greg. One day in the lab, he'd put one arm around Greg and the other hand flat on his chest. He'd only realized what he'd done when he felt the flutter of Greg's heart and watched those molten chocolate eyes shift down to his hand, outrageous lashes veiling an unreadable emotion. Nick had suddenly felt self-conscious and pulled his hands away quickly. So after that he'd made a rule for himself to stay a minimum of three feet away from Greg at all times.

And after two weeks he was aching to feel that slender body under his hands again; yearning for the touches that were never enough and, at the same time, too much. That's when he knew it was something more than "just friends", but if that was all he could get, then dammit, he'd take it.

Nick had never been much of an entertainer, but suddenly he was inviting Warrick and Greg over to watch "the game". It hadn't mattered much what game, and although Warrick was his best friend, he'd only included him to make Greg feel more comfortable.

Nick chuckled to himself a little, remembering how he'd watched Warrick like a hawk, studying straight-man appropriate touching so as not to spook Greg. And he had to laugh at himself because this was one time his gaydar had malfunctioned.

After they'd gotten together Greg had told him he'd been interested in Nick from the start, but the messages he'd gotten were so mixed that he hadn't known what to do about it. Thankfully, that was over two years ago now, and, although they still lived in separate places, each had enough clothing and personal items at each other's place that they may as well have been living together.

They fought, like every couple did, but usually it was over the small annoying things or when the stress of their jobs got to them, but this, i _this /i _ had been a big fight. Nick had stormed out and they'd spent two nights apart, a very rare occurrence these days. Nick didn't know for sure, but he'd be willing to bet that Greg hadn't gotten much sleep either. Nick had gone to bed and spent the night staring up at the ceiling, wondering how the whole thing had started. The second night he hadn't even bothered with bed, he just lay on the couch flipping through the cable channels, alternating between trying not to think about just how much he missed Greg and praying that this wasn't the end.

Guiltily, he realized that if Greg hadn't made the first move, he wasn't sure he would have. Sometimes his misplaced sense of injury stiffened his pride and elevated his naturally stubborn nature all the way up to pigheaded. In fact, that's the word Greg had used in their fight. But, even though Nick could be pigheaded (yes, he could admit that), this time he knew Greg was wrong. In fact, that's how the fight started; he'd been so surprised to find his Greg, usually so open, flexible and adaptable, just taking a stand and being totally unwilling to even consider doing what Nick wanted.

Well, at least Greg had called. Nick loved him so much; he didn't see how he could bear it if they broke up. He supposed he'd end up compromising because nothing, _nothing_ was worth seeing Greg walk out of his life. With that thought helping him feel a bit calmer, Nick headed home to take a shower and change for their meeting.

He pulled on his old jeans and a t-shirt for comfort and grabbed a jacket in case it got cold; it could get very chilly at night in the desert, although this whole week had been unusually humid. As Greg had informed him everyday that week, it felt like New York in the summer at night; the air moist, warm and soft. Shaking his head slightly, as if to clear the thoughts away and still feeling somewhat sad and angry, he got in his truck and headed up to the bluff.

Of course, Greg was there first; so punctual, so prepared, such a good little boy. Sometimes Nick would look at his face, into those eager, enthusiastic eyes and he could picture Greg as a little kid. He'd have been funny, bubbling over with curiosity, bouncing around poking into things, acting out the fantasies that his wild imagination could conjure up. He could also picture the hurt the sensitive little boy had felt at times; he still saw traces of it when Greg made mistakes or thought someone was blaming him, or even worse, insinuated that he was incompetent. It just made him want to hold Greg and kiss away the hurt. In fact, Nick wondered, why he hadn't just done that the night of their fight? If he had, they could have slept together with Greg curled up around him like he always did, after some mind-blowing sex. Or any sex.

Nick adjusted himself slightly as he got out of the truck. He saw Greg outlined against the lights twinkling on the opposite shore, sitting on a blanket. He didn't turn around, just waited for Nick to join him.

Nick sat next to Greg and wrapped his arms around his knees in silence.

"I'm sorry, Nick," Greg whispered in a husky voice.

"I am too," Nick answered softly.

"I don't know what got into me."

Nick saw a single tear slide down Greg's cheek, glistening in the reflection of the rising moon.

"Baby, don't cry, it'll be all right." Nick wrapped his arms around Greg's shoulders and cradled him in his arms. He felt Greg's chest heave with a convulsive sigh as he settled closer and they sat in contemplative silence, snuggled together in the cool light of the moon.

Finally with another sigh, Greg pulled them down onto the blanket and they lay on their backs, holding hands, looking up at the stars, still quiet, but it was a more comfortable silence now.

"Would you dance with me?" Greg asked.

Startled, Nick answered, "Uh, yeah, sure, where do you want to go?"

"Right here," Greg said. He pulled Nick to his feet and pushed a button on his iPod. Into the night came the soft sound of Keith Urban singing.

_ i The first time I looked in your eyes I knew_

_I would do anything for you_

The first time you touched my face I felt 

_What I've never felt with anyone else_

_I wanna give back what you've given to me_

_And I wanna witness all of your dreams_

_Now that you've shown me who I really am_

_And I wanna be more than just your man_

_I wanna be the wind that fills your sails_

_Be the hand that lifts your veil_

Be the moon that moves your tides 

_And the sun coming up in your eyes_

_Be the wheel that never rusts_

_And be the spark that lights you up_

_All that you been dreaming of and more_

_So much more I wanna be your everything /i _

Nick laughed low when he recognized the song and, holding Greg in his arms, swayed gently to it, letting the rhythm suffuse his soul with hope and love. He heard Greg's answering chuckle and his heart lightened; it was so good to hear him laugh. Greg raised his head and touched his lips to Nick's, kissing him softly. Their eyes locked and as they swayed, Greg tugged at Nick's t-shirt, lifting it over his head and off. With a sigh Greg closed his eyes and nestled into Nick's neck, breathing in his familiar scent as his hands roamed over the muscular back.

Nick pushed Greg away briefly and whipped his t-shirt over his head, then pulled him back into a tender embrace. Greg let out a sigh as their bare, warm chests came into contact, skin touching skin. They continued to sway, their hardening cocks rubbing through their jeans, but there was no hurry – they had a lifetime. When the song ended the quiet of the night was slowly filled with the sound of the waves, faint distant music and the intermittent song of a night bird.

"That's how I feel about you," Greg whispered.

"I feel that way about you, too," Nick whispered back with tears in his eyes.

Greg stooped to play it again. He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his jeans, boxers and socks in one movement. Nick grinned and did the same. Greg held out his arms and Nick moved into them as they swayed to the song again, naked and feeling a new awareness of their connection with each other.

Their mouths came together in a lush, soft kiss, open, exploring, gentle. Greg nuzzled the side of Nick's face and bit his earlobe gently, then left a trail of hot kisses down his neck. Nick closed his eyes, reveling in the glide of their bare skin and aroused flesh. Their cocks slid together between them as they moved, their hands roaming in smooth caresses. Nick moved his hands down Greg's back, cupping the gentle swell of his ass in his palms, then pulling him closer, digging his fingers into the firm globes.

Greg's breath caught as their hips ground together, but he continued to dance until he could bear it no longer. Pushing Nick back gently, he dropped his head to lap at one nipple, feeling it harden as the moisture cooled under his breath. He twisted and pulled the other nipple gently, feeling Nick's breath quicken.

He laid his head against Nick's chest to hear the beating of his heart, it was fluttering with excitement, but Nick made no other sound, simply holding Greg in his arms. With his head pressed against Nick, Greg slid down onto his knees. He heard Nick gasp and looked up at him, smiling tremulously. Nick's hands were on his shoulders, holding him lightly and as Greg swirled his tongue for the first hot swipe across the head of Nick's cock, he felt the hands move to his hair, tangling in the spikes.

He felt his lips stretch around the girth as he took Nick into his mouth. He closed his eyes, wanting to concentrate only on the divine flavour and scent of his lover. The hard flesh covered in the softest skin was so hot and delicious; Greg could never get enough of tasting his lover. He kissed down the side of the shaft, burying his nose in the curly black hair, inhaling the scent of musk and sweat and Nick.

Relaxing his throat, he gradually took in his lover's length, swirling his tongue and sucking. He didn't want Nick to come yet, wanted to make this good for him, make him tremble with ecstasy before he tasted his essence. He felt Nick's fingers tighten in his hair and heard the first soft moan.

Nick looked down at his lover; it was such an erotic image. To see him on his knees, naked under the night sky, moonlight glowing on his skin, sucking his erection as if he'd never tasted anything so good, it was almost ethereal. Greg's dark lashes fanned across his cheeks as his mouth worked over Nick's cock. The further Greg took Nick in, the more Nick wanted to just pull him up, turn him around and fuck his brains out, but he restrained himself. Greg's hands were wandering now, one rolling Nick's balls and fondling them, the other, wet with spit, circling his entrance. Nick widened his legs and dropped his hands to tease Greg's nipples.

He felt the little jerk Greg gave when his warm fingers started playing with his nipples; Nick knew that excited him and he wanted to drive Greg as crazy as he felt. He wanted to erupt into Greg's mouth and feel the other man swallow it down, then pull him up for a kiss so he could taste himself mixed with the sweetness of his lover.

But even more he wanted to feel the connection and completion he always felt when he was inside Greg. And he had a need to claim Greg again as his own. He'd been more frightened than the fight had warranted and needed this act to reassure himself. To know that Greg was still his.

"Greg, stop."

Greg froze at the words, having no idea what was going through Nick's mind. He pulled off and looked up at Nick uncertainly, hoping he hadn't gone too far, too fast without even talking through their disagreement. He smiled in relief as he saw the feral look of need in Nick's eyes.

Nick dropped to his knees, so their faces were level. "I want you," he breathed.

"How do you want me?" Greg asked in relief.

"First, I want to see you open yourself for me," Nick commanded.

Greg scrambled for the lube while Nick sank down onto his back. Greg slicked his fingers and reached behind himself, shuddering when he sank one finger inside.

"C'mere."

Greg moved closer and Nick pulled him down so that he was kneeling over his supine body. "Fuck yourself on your fingers," Nick ordered.

Greg knelt so Nick could see his fingers, slick with lube, moving in and out of his entrance. He breathed hard as Nick's eyes watched him hungrily, desire lighting a fire in them. He stretched his back to give Nick a good view and moaned as he hit his prostate.

"That's enough," Nick said, "Now, ride me."

Greg spread his legs and grabbed Nick's cock, guiding it to his entrance. He breached himself with the head and paused. Nick grabbed Greg's hips and pushed him down forcibly, impaling him on his cock. Greg gasped as his ass met Nick's hips. Nick's cock twitched inside him and his hips jerked responsively. The unspoken emotions spiraled into need, desire and hunger between the two men, their familiarity allowing them to explode into an urgent merging of their bodies.

Nick pulled Greg up and slammed him back down on his lap again. He braced his hands on Nick's shoulders and raised himself up and slammed down again. Nick smiled and lifted Greg's hips again, then angled his own to brush against his lover's sweet spot.

Greg gave a strangled cry at the sensation. He set a fast pace, wanting to exorcise the distance between them, his thighs burning and quivering with the strain as Nick thrust up into him with each stroke, burying himself deeper each time. Nick braced his feet on the blanket, giving himself the leverage to drive upwards hard into Greg, lifting him off the blanket. Greg cried out with each thrust, squirming with pleasure as sparks fired off behind his eyes.

He was losing his rhythm, lost in the sensation of the hard, wild fucking, slamming himself desperately against Nick, wanting him to come. Suddenly he felt Nick's hand on his hard length and knew he was going to come.

Nick pounded upward as hard as he could and came, feeling his hot seed spurt deep inside hot, narrow channel and screamed Greg's name. He felt Greg's muscles clench down on him, milking him of the last drops and hot fluid splashed over Nick's hand and stomach as Greg came with him.

Greg swayed and dropped forward onto Nick, who held the heaving flanks of his young lover comfortingly as he caught his own breath.

"Greg?"

When he received no answer he looked at Greg's face and laughed. Eyes closed and jaw slack; Greg had passed out. Nick grinned smugly. He felt quite proud of himself and planned on teasing Greg mercilessly if he ever woke up.

With a slight moan Greg's eyes started to flutter open and when he saw Nick watching him, he smiled weakly.

"I fucked you senseless," Nick crowed.

Greg chuckled. "I guess I deserved it."

"Hey, wait! Don't I deserve it too?"

"Yes, love, you deserve anything you want." Greg moved as Nick slid out of him and reached for the wetnaps.

"God, you're so prepared," Nick sighed gratefully.

"Well, I was hopeful," Greg grinned cockily.

"Of?"

"Of the fact that you'd be horny after the last couple of nights and I could seduce you and you would forgive me," he said in a rush.

"I i _was /i _ being pigheaded," Nick admitted. "But you surprised me; usually you're so open to trying something new. I couldn't understand why you were being so adamant."

"I was being worse, a snob," Greg groaned. "I'm really sorry. And I have a gift for you." He dove again for his bag of supplies and came up with an envelope.

"Two tickets for the Keith Urban concert, right up front?" Nick gloated. "You asshole, you said the chance of you being seen at a country concert was about the same as you putting on a miniskirt and dancing in a Marilyn Manson video. What changed your mind?"

"I went online and listened to Keith Urban's songs. And I heard this one and it just expressed everything I feel about you. I didn't think country music could be so… emotional," Greg admitted.

"And?"

"And Keith Urban i _is /i _ really cute," Greg huffed, rolling his eyes upward.

Nick pulled him closer, tangling their naked limbs together. "He's not as cute as you, Greg. I love you, country music fan or no."

Greg smiled. "Dance with me again?" Nick nodded and they stood up. Greg started the song again and Nick gasped as their warm naked bodies came together. He held Greg close and they swayed as one under the stars.

"Wow, dancing naked under the stars," Nick murmured into Greg's silky hair.

"I thought you'd like it, outdoors, overlooking the lake, full moon," Greg smiled drowsily.

"I loved it," Nick said, "But you didn't have to get tickets for the concert. It's really nice but–"

"I was a jerk when I won those tickets in the quiz and didn't want to go to the concert," Greg said earnestly. "I've felt bad about it ever since and I kinda wanted to make it up to you."

"This was perfect and if I ever think you're being a jerk, I'll remember this instead," Nick sighed. He held Greg tightly in his arms, wishing he could actually tell the younger man the passionate, head-over-heels romantic way he felt about him but could never put in words. But then, he reassured himself, Greg probably knew. He had ESP. Or magic.

_ i I Wanna Be Your Everything by Keith Urban_

_The first time I looked in your eyes I knew_

_I would do anything for you_

_The first time you touched my face I felt_

_What I've never felt with anyone else_

_I wanna give back what you've given to me_

_And I wanna witness all of your dreams_

_Now that you've shown me who I really am_

_And I wanna be more than just your man_

_I wanna be the wind that fills your sails_

_Be the hand that lifts your veil_

Be the moon that moves your tides 

_And the sun coming up in your eyes_

_Be the wheel that never rusts_

_And be the spark that lights you up_

_All that you been dreaming of and more_

_So much more I wanna be your everything_

_When you wake up I'd be the first thing you see_

_And when it gets dark you can reach out to me_

_I'd cherish your words_

_And I'd finish your thoughts_

_And I'll be your compass when you get lost_

_I wanna be the wind that fills your sails_

_Be the hand that lifts your vail_

_Be the moon that moves your tides_

_And the sun coming up in your eyes_

_Be the wheel that never rusts_

_And be the spark that lights you up_

_All that you been dreaming of and more_

_So much more I wanna be your everything_

_I'd be the wheel that never rusts_

_And be the spark that lights you up_

_All that you been dreaming of and more_

_So much more I wanna be your everything_

_I wanna be your everything _

_I wanna be your everything /i _

b Part Deux: Greg /b 

Sometimes travel was fun. Greg could really get behind a trip to Hawaii or someplace equally tropical, with Nick along, of course. Exotic food, sunshine, maybe some surfing, clear turquoise water and sex. Lots of sex.

That was the ideal. And this trip was as far from it as you could get. His flight had circled O'Hare so long that his connecting flight had gone when they landed. Of course, the blizzard had also held up every other flight, so by the time Greg finally disembarked all the hotels around the airport were full and he had no choice but to sleep on the floor. He'd managed to snag a blanket, okay, actually two, but there were no pillows. No food. None of the concession stands were open. His luggage was checked through so he had no toothbrush. Luckily, he had floss in his carry-on or he doubted he'd have gotten any sleep. He would have just sat there, feeling the tartar build up on his teeth, wanting to claw it off.

He'd called Nick on his cell and whined about his plight until he felt a little better. Nick was all sympathy and commiserated with him until Greg laughed and apologized for being a wuss.

"You're not a wuss. It's annoying to have that happen and it's not comfortable to spend the night on the floor," Nick had reassured him. "Especially so close to Christmas. I really miss you."

"Really?" Greg was delighted. "I've only been gone four hours."

"Yeah, but I missed you the minute you got on the plane. Because you'll be gone another week after these four hours." Nick laughed and Greg was miserable with homesickness, or really, Nick-sickness. "You want to have phone sex?"

"Maybe I better wait till I have a room to myself," Greg answered lightly, hoping to hide his loneliness from Nick.

"Okay, well, I'll let you go so your battery doesn't run down. I hope you sleep okay, even on the floor," Nick said.

"Thanks, babe. I love you. Good night," Greg whispered.

"Love you too, baby," Nick said tenderly.

Greg eyed the blankets suspiciously. Long experience in the DNA lab enabled him to imagine all the invisible grubbies clinging to the blankets, but they had to be cleaner than the carpet. He spread one blanket under him, rested his head on his carry-on and bedded down under the other blanket, fighting for a comfortable position.

He woke up with a crick in his neck and his eyes felt like they'd been rolled in sand. But at least Starbucks was open and he lined up with the other sleepy and disgruntled passengers to get a i _large /i _ coffee and a bagel.

By the time he arrived in New York, he was tired, hungry and unable to turn his head to the left. He took a cab to the hotel, a fairly nice place in midtown Manhattan, where the convention was being held. Grissom had originally planned to go, but had changed his mind at the last minute and sent Greg instead.

Greg hadn't wanted to go, hadn't wanted to miss enjoying this time with Nick. It was the first Christmas they'd planned to spend together instead of going home to visit their respective families and Greg had wanted to get a tree, decorate, plan a menu and make sure his gifts were under said tree. But now he'd be traveling back on Christmas Eve. And the way things were going there'd probably be another delay. He could just imagine spending Christmas in some God forsaken hellhole of an airport. The Little Drummer Boy would repeat over and over again, driving him insane while he imagined sitting down to dinner with Nick, seeing his lover smile as he opened his gift and the hot sex they'd have later. Maybe with a Santa hat.

He flopped on the bed in the room and dialed Nick. It went right to voicemail so Greg just left a quick message about his room and his neck, wishing Nick was there to massage it. Groaning in pain, he pulled out the conference schedule. Grissom had marked all the sessions he wanted Greg to attend and luckily he'd brought a recorder because he thought he might nod off during **Medico-legal Aspects of Forensic Entomology, Including Arthropod-Mediated Fate of Corpses**.

**Can We Train Insects as Drug Sniffers?** i _Could insects be used to sniff for drugs? More evidence for insect olfactory learning appears /i ._ Hmm, that sounded kind of interesting.

Luckily Grissom had checked off a couple of presentations on DNA analysis of maggot gut contents and using blowfly larvae to establish time of death. At least he'd understand the information presented there.

If Greg had chosen to attend a conference, he might have skipped a few seminars and gone sightseeing, but he knew Grissom would be asking him about every single session, so he not only attended, he took notes. He smiled wryly to himself; no matter what his parents' expectations were, he'd never been quite so assiduous to his studies, but, then again, he was more afraid of Grissom than he'd ever been of his parents.

In the evenings he walked, taking in the familiar sounds, sights and smells; the one time he missed the city was around Christmas. He loved the smell of chestnuts from the street vendors, Rockefeller Center with the tree all lit up and the skaters moving below, the animated displays in the windows of Lord & Taylor and the twinkling trees at the Tavern on the Green. But somehow, everything just seemed flat and empty; it would have been so different if he was showing it all to Nick. He sighed as he walked on his lonely way. And he still hadn't been able to catch Nick on the phone.

By the end of the week, he was really looking forward to going home. The conference had been surprisingly interesting but he needed to see Nick, drink some eggnog and have some hot Santa-hat sex. Tiredly, he slid his key card in the door but it didn't open. He turned it over and upside down, but no matter what he did, he could not get the door open. Finally, after kicking the door in frustration, he headed down to the front desk, seething. It seemed like nothing could go right on this trip! Fine, okay, he knew he was exaggerating, but it was still pissing him off. Ten minutes later, he felt as if no exaggeration could express the anger he was feeling.

"I'm sorry sir," the desk clerk said, "We rekeyed the door because you were only booked through last night. Your bags were packed for you and they're in security."

"What?" Greg sputtered, "My plane doesn't leave till tomorrow. Where am I supposed to sleep? I i _know /i _ I was booked till tomorrow."

"I'm sorry sir, but these things do happen. And it i _is /i _ Christmas, you know. The hotel is booked solid."

"And I'm sure all the other hotels are full, also," Greg said, exasperated.

"Possibly. Let me see what I can do, sir," the clerk said impassively.

Greg rested his elbows on the counter and dropped his head, hoping desperately that he would have a bed to sleep in tonight. Finally the clerk turned back and handed him another key. "The hotel wishes to extend its apologies. We do have a suite empty for tonight. Room 2514. If you'll just go through there to get your bag sir. Have a nice stay."

Greg retrieved his bag and wearily took the elevator to his new room. He expected another key fiasco, but the door opened and he stepped inside. He looked around goggling. It was a suite and through the floor to ceiling picture windows he could see Central Park and the city lights beyond. Hell, it was a large suite. He dropped his bag and wandered through the rooms, taking in the king-size bed, sitting room and huge bathroom with a sunken tub and steam shower.

It must be a mistake, it had to be. He called the front desk and explained the whole situation. The clerk who answered said he would send someone up. So Greg sat and turned on the large screen TV, flipping channels aimlessly. He heard the soft sound of the latch giving and a voice called out, "Concierge."

Greg flew to the door as if on wings; he knew that voice! "Nicky! What're you doing here?"

Nick ran towards Greg and caught him in his arms, spinning him around wildly, laughing. He slowed and placed Greg back down on his feet. The younger man reached for Nick's face with both hands and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met, hot and needy, hungry for the taste of each other.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Nick leaned his forehead against Greg's and started laughing again. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, but – why – how'd you get here?" Greg asked, bewildered.

"I came to give you your Christmas gift," Nick said.

"Oh, goody! What is it?"

"I came to give you my heart," Nick said quietly.

"Oh–" Greg gasped, his eyes wide and shining, hardly daring to believe that this was real. The thought that all this was his, this beautiful man so strong, so compassionate and loving took his breath away. He moved closer and held Nick tight… lost in the one moment he had longed for above all others – a true lover's embrace.

Nick pulled away and smiled, "Let me get my stuff." He opened the door and brought in his bag and a six-pack. "Champagne," he said, hoisting it with a grin.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"For you," Greg said in a low, husky voice.

He backed Nick toward the giant bed, slowly undressing him, kissing him all the way. When Nick was completely naked, he started to undress Greg, who stood compliantly accepting his manipulations. When they were both naked Nick pulled Greg down on the bed. He stroked Greg's face with his fingertips, smiling as he rolled on top of him.

Greg felt the warm body covering his, and he was adrift on a sea of sensation. Hot lips on his, strong hands touching him, caressing, moving him. His world encompassed only the sound, smell, taste and touch of the man above him. He reached for Nick, content to merely hold him as his body was thoroughly explored.

He arched up into the mouth devouring him, nipples aching under gentle teeth and tongue, incoherent words and cries issuing from his mouth unchecked. He moaned in loss as Nick sat up; straddling his legs, and then swung off the bed to rummage in his bag.

Nick returned with his hands behind his back, hiding silk scarves. He pounced, securing Greg's wrists to the headboard, and then tied one scarf around his eyes, blindfolding him.

His burning eyes swept over Greg's naked body with satisfaction, taking in the way his lover's body was spread out wantonly for him across the bed. With his hands tied over his head, long legs stretched wide and chest heaving in helpless anticipation, Greg looked like the embodiment of desire and Nick thought that he'd never seen anything more beautiful. He set about exploring the slender toned body with hands and tongue, tasting and sniffing as if memorizing the taste, feel and scent of his lover.

Greg twisted his hands in his restraints, his flesh slowly set on fire as he arched into each unexpected touch, the swipe of a hot tongue, teeth grazing nipples, hands gently caressing; every sensation unexpectedly heightened by his blindness, by never knowing where Nick would caress him next. He moaned shamelessly as he willingly yielded all control to his lover.

"Nick, please…" he begged.

Nick lowered his head and sucked at the tender skin inside the curve of Greg's hipbone, hard enough to leave an impressive mark. He sat up to survey it and was pleased. "Mine," he growled possessively.

"Yours…" Greg breathed submissively.

Nick nosed his way to Greg's cock, hard and weeping with fluid. He tasted experimentally and Greg thrust up, searching blindly for Nick's hot tongue. Nick grabbed Greg's hip and held him down against the mattress as he slowly licked, kissed and sucked the younger man, who shamelessly begged and pleaded for release. Nick smiled wickedly and continued to tease, bringing Greg to the edge, shaking with frustration, and then backing off to hear him plead again.

Nick released him completely and watched him buck upwards, trying to find some release, He crawled up Greg's body and suddenly lowered himself so that his own excited hardness dug into Greg's stomach, nipping at the younger man's lips before plunging into the hot depths. He took Greg's cock in his hand and started stroking in earnest, up and down, swiping his thumb over the head to collect the dripping fluid, spreading it for lubrication, increasing his pace until his hand was almost a blur, matched by the thrust Greg's hips. Writhing wildly, Greg's breathing became more ragged until with a hoarse scream he came, spilling hot fluid over Nick's hand.

Gently releasing him, Nick spread Greg's cum over his own cock and positioned himself between Greg's legs. He spread the buttocks to reveal the hidden entrance and entered in one hard fast thrust as Greg cried out. Nick rested for a moment as he lay sheathed within the silky heat of the throbbing passage. Greg lay compliantly spread open for him, long legs splayed wide, breathing heavily as his desire reawakened and his cock twitched between them.

Nick started to move, unable to control the instinctive flexing of his hips, groaning with delight as he felt Greg's legs clasp him tightly around the waist, heels digging into his back as the slighter man tried to lift himself up to meet each driving stroke. Nick grabbed Greg's ass, pulling him up higher, changing the angle just enough to drag across the seat of pleasure deep inside as he pounded down hard.

After missing Greg desperately all week, Nick was surprised with his own restraint. Again he indulged himself, teasing Greg, bringing him to the edge and backing away. But it wasn't just to tease; he wanted to feel the intimate connection between them. Being buried so deeply inside his lover after being without him for so long made him want to prolong their joining until he was completely enveloped by the love he felt so strongly from Greg. His eyes softened as he watched Greg writhing under him, impassioned cries and soft moans issuing from kiss-swollen lips.

Nick reached up to pull the blindfold off, driven by a sudden need to see his lover's eyes. Long lashes fluttered and then the soft velvet depths of Greg's eyes were fixed on him, drowning him in love and desire.

"Please…" Greg begged again and Nick reached for his erection, stroking in time as he thrust forcefully against the sweet spot and brought the younger man to climax again, gently coaxing him through the aftershocks as his hips jerked and his chest heaved.

Nick raised himself on his arms and thrust hard, finding his own release, howling as he orgasmed, filling Greg's body with his hot cum. He lowered himself onto his lover, reaching up to release the ties. He sighed as Greg's arms came around him with a soft, contented sigh.

They lay together in satiated silence until Nick's softened member slipped out. He rose to fetch a washcloth and cleaned them. Greg pulled him back to lie next to him, tangling their legs. Eventually they would get up, take a shower, maybe order room service. Tomorrow he would show Nick the city he loved, share all the things he'd thought about during the week. But for right now, they were enough, all they needed. It didn't matter how big a room or what city they were in as long as they were together.

"I can't believe you set all this up for me. I missed you so much," Greg crooned into Nick's ear.

Nick shuddered as the hot breath warmed him. "You kept saying how much you missed me and what you wanted to show me here. I wanted to surprise you."

"You did! I never expected this in a million years!"

"After you got me those tickets to Keith Urban, I've been trying to think of something to show you how much I love you…"

"I know you do," Greg said, caressing Nick's face softly.

"But I don't tell you enough," Nick struggled forward. "I feel the warmth of your love fill me up, make me whole. You say wonderful things to me and I just answer, 'me too'. I wanted to do something more. I wanted you to feel the way I do when I'm with you."

"You gave me your heart, what more could I want?" Greg pulled Nick close and kissed him softly.


	6. StoreBoys

Part A: Nick

Nick pressed his face against the glass, shading his view with both hands but the windows were heavily coated and he couldn't see in. He heaved a deep sigh of dread, but he'd promised to actually go into the store and he would do it. Reluctantly he pushed the door open and froze, immediately overwhelmed by the riot of colour in the displays, and then, at second glance, he blushed deep red as he took in the array of sex toys and aids.

He almost turned around and ran out, but the store seemed deserted. He was there for lube, he reminded himself, the kind that lasted underwater. He steeled himself to advance further into the store because clearly they didn't keep the lube by the door.

Nick flinched as he passed a display of bondage gear, at least that's what he thought it was. It was certainly leather, black and generously studded. The various paddles, whips and feathery things just made him shudder. He couldn't _imagine _agreeing to something like that and wondered what kind of people did.

He stopped at a display of videos, distracted by the array of huge boobs everywhere. He became determined to find one showing two guys together, something of more interest to him. He became so absorbed he didn't notice the lights shutting off until a jangle of keys grabbed his attention. It must be closing time and he hadn't even located the lube section yet.

"Hello?" he called out.

Silence.

"Hey, is anyone here?" He was trying to decide what to do if he was locked in for the night when he heard an answering voice.

"What are you doing? Store closed fifteen minutes ago," came a reproving voice, an undercurrent of humour running through it.

"Um… I… I didn't hear you," Nick stuttered meekly, catching his breath as the proprietor came into view.

He was quite a young man, slim, with his hair spiked just as Nick liked it. But what caught Nick's attention were the sinfully tight black leather pants, clinging like a second skin from where they were slung low on the hips to the knees, where they flared out to cover black boots. On top the young man was wearing only a black leather vest, which swung open across his chest displaying a pierced nipple, and each wrist sported a black leather armband. He was also wearing a dangerously predatory expression tempered with a little smirk.

He crossed his arms, regarding Nick thoughtfully. "When I call out that the store's closing I expect everyone to leave. You can't just stay as long as you like… or you may have to stay as long as I like."

Nick shivered a bit and started to sidle past the young man, "I won't keep you then, I'm so sorry…"

"Stay right there!" The young man's voice snapped like a whip and Nick froze in place.

The young man smiled at Nick's obedience. "Very good, prompt response. Now what was it you wanted?"

"Um, what?" Nick asked stupidly.

"You came in for something, what did you want?"

"Oh, um, waterproof lube," Nick mumbled.

"Follow me," the young man commanded and numbly, Nick followed him further into the store through a second doorway. The young man stopped in front of a large display and waved an elegant hand. "Help yourself. I'm just going to get… something." Nick watched the cheeks of the young man's ass strain at the leather with each step as he strolled away. They were so tight, so round, he just wanted to sink his teeth into them. As the young man rounded a corner out of sight, he snapped back to the task at hand, searching through seeming acres of lubes to locate the right one.

When he'd located the tube he thought he wanted, Nick turned to walk to the register. As he walked to the doorway, the young man suddenly appeared and commanded, "Stop right there!" Afraid that he'd unwittingly violated some unwritten etiquette of the store, Nick froze again, turning his head questioningly.

Quicker than he'd thought possible, the young man caught his right hand and snapped a handcuff on it. Nick recoiled, but the young man was surprisingly strong and was already snapping another cuff on his left wrist, his hand still clutching the tube of lube nervously. Nick was caught in the doorway, each handcuff attached to rings sunk into the wood that he hadn't noticed before, his hand spread out at his sides.

He jerked on his restraints, and yelled, "What the fuck are you doing?"

The young man appeared in front of him with a wicked smile. "I'm playing and if you're good, you'll have a good time." He frowned. "But if you keep yelling, I'll have to gag you and then you won't have such a good time." His eyes flicked in the direction of the whips. "So, what'll it be?"

Nick swallowed audibly. "Why are you doing this?" he asked in a quieter voice.

"Because you didn't leave on time. You agree you need to be punished for that, don't you?"

Nick looked terrified and the young man laughed, "I like the nervous ones best." And with that he vanished again.

Nick tested the handcuffs. They were fur-lined so at least they didn't hurt but they were also as strong as any the police carried. He yanked and pulled but couldn't release himself.

He waited, growing more nervous with each passing moment. Suddenly the young man reappeared, pulling a tall stool behind him. On it he placed a glass dildo. It was quite beautiful, cobalt blue with clear swirls around the stem and a realistic looking head. It was also quite large and Nick swallowed nervously again. The young man looked at him, threw him a sweet smile and disappeared once more.

He came back pushing a large mirror on wheels and positioned it carefully in front of Nick. Nick was startled to see his own widened eyes, looking innocent and vulnerable, his face a bit pale and it was… arousing to see his hands restrained out to his sides.

The young man's face appeared over his shoulder and his eyes met Nick's in the mirror. "You're very beautiful, you know?" he said softly. "I can't wait to unwrap my present."

Nick pulled at the handcuffs again and the young man smiled at his struggles, a feral look in his eyes that made Nick nervous.

"You might as well relax and enjoy this. You don't have much choice," the young man pointed out.

Suddenly Nick felt the young man's hand circle him and pull his shirt out of his jeans. He closed his eyes as he felt nimble fingers unbutton the shirt one button at a time without ever touching him. Finally the shirt hung open and the young man commanded, "Open your eyes. I want you to watch."

Nick opened his eyes to see his shirt pulled wide, falling off his shoulders and exposing his chest and stomach. He shuddered as the young man's hands touched his skin for the first time, slowly stroking over the tensed muscles of his back. "Your skin is so perfect," the young man crooned. "So beautiful."

Nick watched as the hands slid over his shoulders, caressed his chest and stopped at his nipples, pinching them just to the point of pain. The tingly feeling shot straight to his groin and he whimpered softly as he felt the first stirring of his cock. "Like that, huh?" The young man chuckled softly. "Look at yourself, see how much you're enjoying this. You love knowing that I can do whatever I want to you and you can't stop it, don't you?"

Nick groaned, knowing it was the truth. He loved having his nipples played with but just the _idea_ that he was bound, restrained, at the young man's mercy, was adding to his arousal in the most maddening way. He felt guilty and ashamed but he'd never been so turned on in his entire life.

The disembodied hands slid lower, the black wrist bands creating the illusion that they were moving on their own. Nick felt his abdominal muscles ripple as the hands started unbuckling his belt. The young man pulled the belt completely out of the loops of Nick's jeans and doubled it in his hands, snapping it briskly. Nick jumped and yelped and the young man laughed, tossing the belt to the ground.

Then the hands were back and Nick leaned his groin into the touch, hoping to get some friction on his cock straining against his tight jeans, which were getting tighter by the moment. But the hands merely brushed against his sensitized skin as they unzipped the jeans. Nick's eyes met the young man's in the mirror and he was pleading now, begging for his captor to reach inside and touch him.

"What do you want?" the young man asked, his hands hovering, not touching.

"Touch me… please…" Nick managed a strangled moan.

The hands went immediately to the waistband of his jeans and pushed them down Nick's trembling thighs to his knees. "Look at yourself," the voice reminded him and Nick obediently lifted his eyes to the mirror again. The hands now slid under the waistband of his boxers and caressed Nick's sides as his shorts were pushed down to join the jeans.

Nick groaned as his cock sprang free from all the fabric and stood at attention against his flat belly. "Look how gorgeous you are handcuffed to the door, half naked, with my hands on you," the voice teased him.

Nick's eyes were huge, his face flushed and his mouth hung open as he gasped for air. The young man ducked under his arm and picked up the blue dildo, and Nick couldn't tear his eyes away from the long slender fingers stroking up and down the length of the glass cock.

"I'm gonna fuck you with this, would you like that?" the young man asked softly.

Nick nodded yes unconsciously but his voice quavered, "I've never done… anything… like that…"

"Oh, you'll be begging me to fuck you with this before we're done," the young man assured him. "But first…" he put the dildo down and produced a red squiggly thing, with spiky points. "We'll just slip this on."

Nick flinched as the young man approached him, but he ducked under Nick's arm again and from behind, Nick saw the hands come around again. "It's just a cock ring," the young man reassured him, "So you don't come until I let you."

Finally the hands were touching his rigid flesh, burning with need, and the band was stretched over his cock and around his balls. His captor gave his erection a tiny pat. "See, that's not so bad, is it?"

Nick shook with excitement and dropped his head back. He'd never felt so dirty before, this was so wrong but it felt so right.

The hands encircled him from behind, once again pinching and teasing his nipples into hard nubs and he gasped as he felt the slick leather pants come into contact with his ass. He ground back hard against the young man, feeling the heat where the leather strained over an erection that felt huge to his fevered imagination.

The young man pulled away and after a few minutes of standing alone, wondering, Nick felt a slick finger slide between the cleft of his cheeks. The finger caressed his puckered opening, circling gently, then breached the tight ring of muscle, causing him to rise to his toes and gasp at the sudden invasion. "Oh, God," he groaned and widened his legs to allow better access. The finger pushed inside in one slow glide and the young man curled it, allowing himself to brush over Nick's prostate. Nick jumped and whimpered loudly, pushing his ass back to get more.

The young man pumped his finger in and out slowly until Nick relaxed and then withdrew his finger. Nick whimpered softly. The young man ducked in front again to retrieve the blue glass dildo, slowly and thoughtfully caressing the shaft with a large amount of lube. Their eyes met, the young man's looking amused though aroused, Nick's pleading and unsure.

"I'm gonna fuck you with this now, do you want that?"

"Um, no… I don't know…"

"I'm gonna fuck you with this up your ass while I suck you. Don't you want that? To be fucked and sucked at the same time?"

Silently Nick nodded.

"No, you gotta ask me. I want to hear you beg for it," the young man instructed gently.

Nick groaned in frustration and embarrassment. If anyone had ever suggested to him that he would enjoy having a stranger handcuff him to a door, shove a dildo up his ass and suck him off at the same time, he would have unhesitatingly denied any such desire, yet here he was about to beg for it. Because he knew he would beg, it was just a question of time. The pressure building in his groin was too much for him and no amount of pride would ever feel as good as this wicked pleasure was about to.

"Please…" he stalled.

"Yes?" The young man thoughtfully continued to play with the dildo.

"Please, shove that dildo up my ass and fuck me hard and suck me at the same time!"

The young man smirked in triumph and sank to his knees in front of Nick. "Now don't forget to watch," he reminded Nick, who lifted his eyes from the young man to the mirror.

He caught his breath, struggling for air because this was even hotter. His hands were restrained, his shirt hung off his shoulders, his pants were around his knees and the beautiful young man with a perfect ass was kneeling in front of him, both cheeks round and smooth in the slick leather. He watched himself jump as he felt the hands spread his cheeks and the head of the glass cock pressing into his entrance. It was cold and slick and unbearably smooth. He moaned as the ridge made it past the tight muscle and he clenched convulsively at the size and coldness.

The young man waited till Nick's breathing slowed and then continued to push it in slowly, inch by inch until Nick had taken the entire length. Nick watched in the mirror as the young man's head got closer to his groin and then flicked his glance down to watch him lick his lips, then take one first hot swipe over the head of his cock.

"Fuck me… please… I need… I can't take it… suck me now!" Nick demanded.

The young man took Nick's cock into his mouth and Nick moaned with relief, it was so hot, so wet, the tongue swirling around the head. And then the dildo started fucking his ass, slowly at first, and the young man angled it to hit Nick's prostate.

Nick's hips jerked with over-stimulation and he wailed as he pushed back onto the dildo and forward into the young man's mouth. He saw himself in the mirror; rocking helplessly and his mouth open, breathing hard. He'd forgotten about the cock ring but now he realized he couldn't come and his arousal was building.

He felt as if he was on fire, his cock hard as rock, his balls drawn up and ready, his ass open and spread over the dildo fucking him and he couldn't get any relief.

"Please… you have to… let me come… please…" he gasped as he jerked against his restraints, trying to spread his legs as wide as he could with his jeans trapping them.

The young man gently released Nick's cock and fondled it with one hand. He looked up at Nick and said, "I'll let you come when I'm buried in your ass so deep you won't know where I start and you end."

"Yes… please…" Nick moaned.

The young man stood up, so close that Nick could feel his hot breath on his lips. He looked Nick straight in the eye and grabbed the back of his head, and pressed their lips together hard, his tongue thrusting deep into Nick's mouth, angling Nick's head to control the kiss.

The young man whispered right into Nick's mouth, "Now I'm gonna fuck you."

Nick nodded eagerly and the young man released him and ducked under his arm again. Nick whimpered as the dildo was pulled out. Hands grabbed his hips, pulling him back and he felt a blunt warmth at his opening, so different from the cold glass dildo.

He pushed his ass back eagerly, unable to wait to get the young man's cock into him. The young man entered in one strong thrust. Nick pushed back forcefully, trying to take the entire length at once. The young man started thrusting, pulling Nick's hips back and slamming into him deep and hard. Nick wailed again as the young man hit the nub of nerves with every stroke, white hot sparks flying before his eyes.

"Look at yourself," the young man gasped as he drove deep inside.

Nick looked in the mirror and watched as his body moved and jerked with each thrust, his hands helpless in their restraints. He felt like he couldn't bear another moment of this exquisite torture and when the young man reached around and slid the cock ring off, he came hard, keening and twisting with the power of his release. He felt the hot fluid deep in his ass as the young man came shortly after him.

Nick sagged in his restraints, chest heaving as if he'd just run a marathon. He moaned as the young man pulled out of his body, and jumped as a cool, wet cloth cleaned him gently. The young man pushed the stool behind Nick and released his hands from the handcuffs. Nick sat down hard on the stool, his trembling legs refusing to hold him up any longer.

Greg put his arms around Nick and cradled him. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously. "You look like you're going to pass out."

"Fuck, that was amazing," was all Nick could say.

Greg pried the tube of waterproof lube out of Nick's hand. "I can't believe you held this the entire time."

"I thought we were going to fuck in the shower. When did you have time to set this all up?" Nick asked weakly.

"Well, I'm the one who always has to go to the sex store, so I thought I'd give you a reason to motivate you," Greg said innocently. "The manager is kind of a friend, and I'm a good customer, so he gave me the keys. You did say you wanted me to use the dildo and handcuffs on you, didn't you?"

Nick looked up at Greg and smiled. "Let me just remind you, geekboy, paybacks are a bitch."

"But you liked it, didn't you?"

"Hell, yeah." Nick pulled him close and kissed him. "Did you get your nipple pierced?" Nick flicked the tiny gold ring. "It's really hot."

"No way, it's a clip-on." Greg twisted it off and rubbed the site with relief.

"You ever think of getting it pierced?"

"Nick! No! I'm never going to get it pierced."

"Just asking."

Part Deux: Greg

Greg drifted into the door of the deserted showroom, looking at the high-powered cars. Jags could top 130 miles per hour, not that there was any place to drive that fast around here, but it was the power that attracted him, as well as the sleek lines. He ran his hand over the lines of the zircon XK convertible; the paint was so deep and glossy, like you could look right through it. Not that he could ever afford a car like that, being an impoverished student; they started at over $70,000.

"Can I help you?"

Greg jumped. Damn salesmen, you couldn't get a moment alone in a showroom. Now he'd have to brush him off. He turned and noticed the guy was not the ordinary run-of-the-mill smarmy asshole salesman. In fact, he was quite hot. He had dark eyes and a square jaw, dark hair and his sleeves were rolled back revealing sinewy forearms and tanned skin.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm just looking." Greg smiled perfunctorily and turned back to look at the car.

"I think you scratched the car."

"No I didn't!" Greg looked around quickly and saw the salesman point an accusing finger at a long scratch on the hood. "I barely touched it."

"Well, the scratch wasn't there earlier. And you were touching the car," the salesman pointed out with a feral smile. "Do you _know_ how much it's going to cost to fix that?"

Greg's heart sank. He could never afford the car and he knew that the repair to the car would be out of his price range too.

"Look, I really didn't scratch the car. You've gotta believe me. I'm just a student, I don't have any money."

"But I don't believe you. And I think you're going to have to pay for this. I can go and call my lawyer. Unless…" the salesman paused musingly, looking Greg up and down speculatively.

Greg swallowed, suddenly very uncomfortable. "Unless what?"

"Unless you want to work something out."

"Something like what?" Greg asked suspiciously, edging toward the door.

"I'm sure we can work it out between us," the salesman grabbed Greg's arm and he squirmed helplessly in the stronger man's grip, knowing the other man could control his slighter frame without trouble.

Greg paled. "You want me to pay you with sex?"

The salesman nodded, a predatory smile on his face. He pulled Greg by the wrist and led him through several doors into the garage at the back of the showroom. The salesman stopped at an indigo XJ 8 and stroked the hood suggestively.

"Isn't this kind of public?" Greg asked.

The salesman laughed and said, "Not as public as the showroom." He smirked at Greg's face and added, "Don't worry; I'm the last one here. I locked up the showroom. No one will come in."

Greg sighed in resignation and started to kneel. The guy was kind of cute and this would be a hell of a lot cheaper than whatever they would charge.

The salesman's hand pulled Greg back up. "No. Not that."

"What then?" Greg was getting more nervous.

"Well… I'm gonna fuck you like there's no tomorrow. I wanna hear you screaming for release when I shove my cock up your ass. I wanna hear you tell me just how much you love it, "the salesman said, those dark eyes looking deep into Greg's.

"But I never…" Greg's voice faded as he saw the salesman's eyes light up at his confession.

Greg's rib cage hitched as his breath quickened and the salesman smiled gleefully. Greg got the distinct impression that the older man was enjoying his nervousness. The salesman pushed Greg's red t-shirt up to his armpits, tweaking both nipples between thumb and forefinger. He leaned in and swiped his tongue over first one and then the other, chuckling at the little shiver this elicited.

Greg tried to maintain his composure, unwilling to allow his captor to see what this was doing to him. He'd never had anyone pay attention to his nipples so he hadn't realized just how sensitive they were and he bit back a groan as the older man's teeth grazed one, teasing into a hard nub, and then flicking over it with his tongue.

The salesman's hands dropped to Greg's wrists and gripped them tightly as he moved closer. Greg backed away until he felt the bumper behind his knees and then leaned back, trying to avoid contact with the larger man's body. He bent back over the car as far as he could until his muscles couldn't hold him up any longer and he fell back against the slippery surface of the car with a small thud. And still the salesman advanced until the full length of his body was pressed against the younger man.

He licked a hot line up Greg's neck and the young man shuddered, writhing slightly under the weight of the man pressing him down. The salesman stood up and his hands dropped to Greg's jeans undoing the fly and pushing them down around his knees. He spun the young man around and bent him over the hood of the car, holding him there firmly, watching him squirm.

The salesman took in the delicious view, loving how the pale, creamy cheeks of the young man's ass looked against the dark blue of the car. He arranged the young man's arms over his head and pulled his red t-shirt down, so his firm, round ass was framed between the darkness of the shirt and car, standing out starkly naked. God, the things he wanted to do to that ass.

Greg felt a thrill of powerless arousal as his skin hit the cool, slick surface of the car; his half hard cock was trapped between his stomach and the hood and the friction as he squirmed was only making him harder. In spite of himself he couldn't help being turned on by the vulnerable feeling of having his ass exposed to this guy, knowing the man was going to fuck him.

He felt the salesman's hand stroke over his ass cheeks. "You're going to enjoy this," the salesman growled. "You look like the kind of boy who likes to take it up the ass. So let's see how you like this."

Greg felt his cock twitch and get harder as the salesman's hands traveled over his ass, stroking, then squeezing and pinching. He jumped and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he felt a hot tongue swiping over his opening. Strong hands held his cheeks apart as the tongue circled his opening slowly and then started thrusting inside, stretching his tight muscle, teasing him with a preview of what was to come.

His hands scrabbled against the smooth surface of the car, trying to find something to hang onto as his knees sagged. He moaned as the tongue stopped and jumped as the salesman gave his ass a playful slap.

"You have such a tight little ass. And your skin is so pale and untouched. I want to mark you as mine and I want to see you get all hot and begging for me to take you. And you _will_ beg for it," the salesman stated matter of factly.

Greg remained silent, at a severe disadvantage because he couldn't see what the guy was doing. He jumped again as he felt a finger, slick with lube, probing at his opening. He tried to pull away but there was no place to go so he stayed where he was, his legs spread as wide as his jeans allowed.

The finger stroked the puckered skin and Greg was surprised at how sensitive it was. He was just starting to relax slightly when the finger pushed forward, trying to breach the tight ring of muscle. He panicked and clenched hard, then suddenly felt a soothing hand on his back, stroking him. "Just relax," the salesman's voice said, and Greg was surprised at the gentle tone of the voice. "Just breathe."

He breathed hard and tried to relax. The salesman pushed his finger in as far as the first knuckle and waited for the tight ring of muscle to relax. Gradually Greg was able to unclench and the salesman pushed his finger in further.

"How is that?" he asked.

Greg grunted, "It's okay." He squirmed uncomfortably; it burned and he was unaccustomed to the stretch of the skin. The salesman twisted his finger and brushed across something.

"Fuck!" Greg yelled. "What was that? Do it again!"

The salesman chuckled. "I knew you'd be a hot one if I could get your motor revved up." He twisted his finger again, brushing over the bundle of nerves. Greg jerked his hips and moaned; unable to believe he'd never felt anything like this before. He lifted his hips slightly, to make room for his hardening cock against his stomach.

"Just stay right there, boy. You don't move until I tell you to," the salesman ordered. He pulled his finger out and added another, scissoring to stretch the tight entrance. Greg moaned and wiggled his ass, trying to get more contact on the spot that gave him so much pleasure.

The salesman withdrew his fingers and Greg heard rustling. "Now I'm gonna fuck you, boy. I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you won't be able to see straight or sit down for a week," the man growled.

Greg felt his cheeks pulled apart and trembled at the feeling of the hard cock pressed to his opening. The salesman moved it up and down in his cleft, and then pushed inside, entering Greg's body slowly. Greg cried out as the head breached him; the girth much wider than the fingers had been and it hurt a bit.

"Easy, boy, it'll get better," the salesman groaned. He pressed forward with his hips, angling to hit the sweet spot, knowing it would make the boy forget the discomfort.

"Fuck! You're so hot! So tight." The salesman gripped Greg's hips hard, not allowing him to move.

Greg moaned with pleasure as the salesman hit his prostate and he jerked his hips, trying to get more. He felt the man's hips pressing against his ass and knew he'd taken the entire length inside.

"Yeah, boy, you like that. You like my hard cock in your ass don't you?" The salesman chuckled as he pulled out tortuously slowly and slammed back in, his hips meeting Greg's ass with a slap. "Tell me."

"Move if you're gonna, man," Greg growled and thrust back at the salesman vigorously. He couldn't believe he'd gone from being afraid to wanting this man to fuck him as hard and fast as he could take it.

The salesman laughed even more and said, "Oh yeah, baby, you like that. You want me to fuck you. Can't get enough of my cock in your ass, can you?"

He started thrusting hard and fast. Greg moaned and whimpered, unable to move back to meet the thrusts, having no leverage against the slippery surface of the car. He tried to move his hand to his own cock for some relief, but the salesman slapped his hand away, replacing it on the hood.

Suddenly he stopped and pulled out. "Turn over," he ordered.

"Wh- why?"

"Because I want to look at your face while I fuck you senseless. You're very pretty and I want to watch you come with my cock buried deep in your ass."

Reluctantly Greg pushed himself up off the surface of the car and turned around to face the older man. The salesman pushed him back against the car and yanked the legs of his baggy jeans off over his sneakers. Greg lay back against the hood and slid toward the salesman. He tried to grab onto something but there wasn't anything on the aerodynamic hood to grip.

The salesman moved toward him lazily stroking his own dripping cock. He grabbed Greg's legs and draped them over his shoulders. He guided his cock into Greg again, driving forward in a deep hard stroke.

"Oh you're a very pretty one alright, all hot and flushed. I can tell by your eyes… you want this. You want me."

He started thrusting again, hard, fast and wild, hitting Greg's sweet spot with every stroke. Greg's arms stretched helplessly across the hood and his t-shirt hiked up with every movement as salesman pounded into him fiercely.

"Yeah, you like being fucked, don't you, baby?" The salesman growled seductively. "You look so hot on the hood of the car with my cock up your ass. You want me to let you come? Tell me!"

"Please… yes… please…" Greg gasped. "Fuck me harder… please…"

The salesman reached for Greg's leaking erection and started to pull it in time to his drives. Greg tossed his head from side to side and slid helplessly on the slick surface with the force of every thrust. His moans and gasps were coming faster and he erupted without warning, spewing his hot cum over the salesman's hand, clenching down hard with his ass muscles.

He gasped as he saw the salesman lift his hand to his mouth, licking the cum and it seemed to send him over the edge, because then he was coming too, thrusting hard into Greg's ass, holding him firmly around the waist.

Nick collapsed over Greg, slick with sweat and breathing hard. He felt Greg's hands start to stroke his back and tried to catch his breath. As his cock softened he slipped out of Greg's body and allowed the younger man's legs to fall from his shoulders.

He helped Greg sit up shakily.

Greg sighed and said, "Paybacks _are_ a bitch. I'm never going car shopping with you or I'll embarrass myself thinking about this."

Nick laughed with triumph, oh yeah, revenge was sweet.

"I never expected this. How'd you set this up?"

"I've got a friend from school, he's a manager here," Nick nuzzled Greg's neck.

"Well, you got me good," Greg admitted.

"And?"

"And I liked it."

Nick smirked with satisfaction as he helped Greg dress. They held hands as they walked out of the garage. Nick set the security code and locked the doors.

Greg stopped suddenly and said, "Oh my God, did you get the security tape?"

"Yep," Nick snickered, "Want to watch it at home?"

"How about in the garage?" Greg teased.


End file.
